


My Little Alternate: Unity

by Charmless_Crescent



Series: My Little Alternate [1]
Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2020-05-02 00:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmless_Crescent/pseuds/Charmless_Crescent
Summary: Six heroes continue their quest to topple an empire and find a way back home. After the events of the last series, the Alternative Six Find themselves in the region known as Senia, The shining example of the Deltic Empire’s success. But within this technological and progressive marvel hides many secrets. Whispers that can send a creature into parts best left unsaid. A history of pain and sorrow. And a leader who will go to any lengths to ensure the fruits of their labor do not spoil.Can the Six spark a resistance and save the residents?  Or are they doomed to fail, another soon to be secret in the Element of Unity’s redacted files?





	1. A New Day Begins

 

 

       It was past noon and she still wasn’t up. Everypony else was already up and about the world beyond her confined, curtained, bunk. But here she was, still lying in her bed. Fully awake to the noises that were outside her field of view. Especially the hoofsteps that stopped just shy of her curtain.

  
  
  


             “Hey, Scribbler?” 

 

       A familiar voice ranged out, slightly muffled from the barrier between them. It was KP. Another mare that Charmless dragged into this whole clusterfuck excuse for a story. 

  
  


       “Uh, we’re doing this thing at front of the train and everyone else thinks you should come too.” 

  
  
  


       Where once a neat, neon blue, mane with distinct pink highlights had been was now a unkempt mess of hair with patches of dulled, dirty violet interwoven between the strands. The fur on her tail had suffered a similar fate as well. Looking worse for wear, thanks to her tail not finding a reason to get up off the ground. Something the rest of her body could agree with too. KP had to squint in order to find scribblers half opened eyes amid the mass. 

  
  


     “Wow, when you say you aren’t a morning person, you really mean it.” KP said, trying to dilute any form of malice from the sentence as best as she could. She even threw a half hearted laugh to sell the playfulness. A sale that Scribbler wasn’t interested in buying.

  
  
  


      “Let’s just get you some breakfast. Or brunch? That sound okay?” 

  
  


      A small “fine” from Obabscribbler was enough for KP as the pair of mates left the dorm car and headed for the dining cart. 

  
  


 

       “How long has it been?” Scribbler thought to herself as she made her way to the counter of the diner. Kim already behind it, trying her best to pour coffee into a mug with only her wings. 

  
  


        “Those wendigos hit us just yesterday, right?”

No, no, you stupid bitch. A mess like the one that was here had to take two or three days at the least. Two to three days you didn’t help with. Stupid, lazy piece of shit.” 

  
  


        The sound of a filled, ceramic mug sliding across the train’s countertop broke Obabscribbler’s own train of thought. There, right in front of her was a mug, white as snow, save for the unmistakable brown lines running down them and the dark delta ensignia emblazoned as its face. Almost as dark as the liquid contained in its well.

 

   “I know you like coffee just not how you like it. If you feel like it needs something, just say the word. 

  
  
  


       Scribbler looked suspiciously at the pitch black liquid before her. Black. Of course it had to be black. A bitter, overly strong and unappealing concoction. 

  
  


    “She didn’t have to make it for you, you know. Do you really want to add ‘ungrateful’ to that list?” 

  
  


      Obabscribbler lifted the unsettlingly lukewarm mug towards her lips and took a mostly courteous sip. 

 

      One small, courteous sip was enough to trigger a feeling into scribbler’s body. The feeling of revulsion coursed through her throat, then stomach, and then the rest of her. Somehow, this mare made a brew that was both Burnt, and almost cold. It was undoubtedly the worst cup she’d ever had the displeasure of tasting. 

  
  


  “Stupid, lazy, ungrateful bitch.” 

  
  


     KP immediately noticed the grimace on her friend’s face as she finished the mug and proceeded towards the head of the train. 

  
  


   “Wait. Don’t you want anything else?” 

  
  


   “No, it’s alright. I’ve run on less.” Scribbler immediately answered back. By then, the British pony was out of the diner, and with the rest of the group. KP not far behind. 

  
  


      “What could this be about?” Scribbler thought to herself as she saw each member of her group crowding inside the smaller cart. 

  
  


   “Isn’t it obvious? They probably just brought you here to tell you how lazy and stupid you are. Why else? You didn’t help with anything, just lie in that pile of filth you call a bed.” Scribbler could feel her breathing tense as the others turned their gazes onto her.

 

         “Took you long enough.” Answered her male earth pony counterpart, PenWrite. 

  
  
  


     “You see? That one has a little monster to take care of, yet even he managed to get here before you. Need I say anything else?” 

  
  


      “Sorry to keep you all waiting…” Scribbler said in her best, “nothing is wrong here, move along please” voice. From left to right they continued to stare at her. PenWrite, the aforementioned male earth pony, along with his little dragon. Hunter, the residential, Pegasus engineer of this rust bucket. The light blue mare of various shades, KP had joined the mass and was just barely in corner of her sight. Right next to Lost, who’s face shifted ever so slightly at Scribbler’s presence. If there was anypony in this car that could tell something was odd, it was The grey redhead with a penchant for drinks and cursing. Finally she was met with semi vacant stare that was only possible for one stallion. Charmless.

  
  


       How could she possibly forget about him? Out of all the times she wanted too. Everything in this world, both actively or passively. Every action/ redaction. All roads, train tracks and vapor trails. The plethora of problems plaguing then, all lead back to him and the mind housed within that thick skull of his. Now if only he could have the decency to remember those dangers, they might have had a chance.

  
  


       “So, what’s this thing you wanted me here for?” Scribbler blurted out, suddenly remembering the whole reason she had gotten up in the first place. 

  
  


       To her surprise, it was Charmless who actually exited his stupor to respond.  

  
  


      “We just wanted to show you something we picked up from the station outside.” Charmless explained. He then stepped away from where he was standing so that Scribbler could get a full view of what was now pinned to the wall of the car. 

  
  
  
  


        “What is it?” The mare asked quizzically at the sight of it. 

  
  


         “For the love of fuck, it’s a map, idiot. What else could it be, moron?”

  
  


        “Pretty sure that’s a map.” Chimed in a little scaled wonder to the side of Obabscribbler in just the wrong kind of tone. Though Scribbler said nothing, the voice in her head didn’t skip a beat to find the dagger in those words. 

  
  
  


        “From this map we’ve  learned a lot about this equestria.” Charmless explained. “Since I can hardly remember anything.” He added at the last second. Earning a few annoyed looks from the gang and a cursory eye roll from none other than miss Obabscribbler herself. After the less than warm response, Charmless continued 

  
  
  
  


     “As far as we could tell, Delta and his goons have split it five ways. One to each them.”     Charmless raised a hoof to the map to make following along easier.

  
  


      Up here to the north we got Discordia to the east, bet you can’t tell who runs that one. and west of that is Vera’s voyager shores. Down here are the griffithstonian isles, right under the shores. call it a hunch, but it might be that griffin. Directly south is the new dragonlands, and to the S.E is a place called ‘Senia’.” 

  
  


       Scribbler took a long look at the large map adorning the wall. Five whole areas. Each one filled with whole armies of those monsters. Both the ones she saw and whatever kind she didn’t. Bounty hunters and assassins no doubt following suit. Meanwhile, all the lot of them had were each other and the barely working wreck of a train they had to call home. She got out of bed for this? 

  
  


     “If you brought me all the way out here just to remind me that we’re fucked in every conceivable way possible, than congrats. Mission accomplished, can I go back to bed?” 

  
  


      “We’re just trying to figure out where we should go first. You have any idea?” 

  
  


 Scribbler eyed charmless for a moment. And then back to the map again. 

 

    “Just what kind of poison should you pick? It’s not like there’s a wrong answer for this. Then again, if there’s anypony in this room that could give one…”

  
  


      Scribbler raised one of her own hooves and picked where she thought they should go.

  
  


      “Really? Why that one?” Lost questioned as Scribbler brought her hoof down from her choice. 

  
  


     “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” 

  
  


     Before Scribbler could defend her decision, another voice answered in her stead. 

 

    “It’s just a good a place to start as any.” Hunter blankly stated from the conductor’s seat. 

  
  


    “Besides, I’m pretty sure the ponies at this station are starting to ask why we haven’t moved yet, so…” 

  
  


     “Everyone in favor?” Charmless asked ahead of the group. Each and every member expressed their agreement through a silent nod to one another. 

  
  


     “Alright. I guess Senia it is. Hunter?” Once Charmless gave his own nod, the green Pegasus started the train to life and changed the stationary beast to the direction of their new destination.with her sole business resolved, obabscribbler changed her own direction and headed back without a word to the others. 

 

        Scribbler kept trotting into the other cart as the Cloudrail began to exit the station it was on. She kept trotting as she went down the “hallway” cart. Just barely paying attention to the mementos of their journey hanging on the walls. Times they almost died on this quest of theirs. Only to be saved by dumb luck of the highest caliber. Scribbler pauses for a moment midway through the dining car to regain her stamina. It hadn’t been that far. She made it the first time no problem. Scribbler could already hear the words scrapping at the door of her mind. The thought of Their venom coursing through the rest of her body was enough to overpower the tiredness as she trudged on to the barracks and back to her own bed. The events of today taking a large toll on her. Before long, the mare found herself just as she was before: confined and curtained. Nothing to accompany her. Save for the rumbling of the train, and the narrow stream of light from an overcast day making its way through the gaps of her curtains. Curtains that she could not find the strength to close. 

 


	2. Off Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alternative Six face a severe block in their path.

She could feel the difference. Despite having her window blinds drawn fully, she could feel they were there. 

  
  
  


     Powered by curiosity, Scribbler raised a hoof, undertook the Herculean effort and managed to pull back the curtain closest to her. Her reward? A beam of sunlight that despite the million to one odds of happening, managed to shine directly into not one, But both of her eyes at the same time. Once the pain subsided and her eyes adapted, Scribbler took in the full view of the equestria she and the others were barreling through.

  
  


        Where there was once a dull gray overcast space, now held the bluest open sky she’d have ever laid eyes on both in pony and human eyes. Within this ever blue horizon, the sun provided the contrast of a bright white variety. Saturating the newfound greenery around the tracks. Tall and mighty trees dotted the landscape at the edge of scribblers sight. It was without a doubt a beautiful sight. The most beautiful one she’s seen on this quest of theirs at least. 

  
  
  


           Scribbler could feel a twinge in her chest at this first view of Senia. Not enough to dispel her apathy, but noticeable. In her state, “noticeable” was more than welcomed. At first she couldn’t place her hoof on why this scene was eliciting these feelings. Until she remembered the last time she was in a similar place. In a peaceful forest with a blue sky and shining sun. Walking at a comfortable pace, along the dirt trail, and walking with her in a leash was…  

 

  And just like that, the twinge died out. Buried beneath the sea of passivity it bravely tried to shine upon. Through her indifference, Scribbler felt another force pull at her. Not from inside but radiating through her. “A second twinge?” She questioned herself. But the scenery’s moment coming to an end quickly answered her inner question. They were here. Wherever this “Senia” was, they were here for it. 

  
  


   From her spot, Obab could make out the sounds of the train doors opening and hooves making their way out of them. 

 

“Guess if I don’t go now, they’ll send somepony after me.” Scribbler reasoned with herself.

  
  


      “They wouldn’t have to if you’d just stop being such a deadweight.” 

  
  


          Scribbler did her best not to heed that thought any mind as she stepped out of bed. Scribbler took one last look at her bunk’s window  as she approached the door. The forest and whatever trails they had were still in her sight. She gave the forest a small sigh and ran off to join the others outside as There was nothing left for her there. 

  
  


        “You sure we’re dealing with this the right way?” Charmless hesitantly asked TheLostNarrator with a whisper as quiet as the breeze surrounding them. Before she could give the answer to him, the door’s telltale speaking broke the silence in its place. Turning around, the group saw the missing element in their little herd of alternative harmony. Looking better than last they saw her.

  
  


         “Morning.” Charmless greeted in his normal volume. The others giving similar hellos and the like shortly afterwards. Scribbler greeted back with a nod and small smile as she approached her group. 

  
  


      “You look good.” Charmless casually said. And it was right too. The messy swirl that was scribblers mane had been resettled and was now back to its dual nature of bright neon blues and pinks. It must be a good sign. Either that or charmless forgot about that detail while writing this chapter. He chose the former to believe in. 

  
  


      “Thank you.” She replied automatically. 

  
  


    “So why did we stop here?”

  
  


         “Cause of that huge ass tree blocking the way.” KP out right stated with a hoof point. Sure enough, exactly what she said was laying out in front of the tracks: a giant tree with many branches on its side. A large, twisted knot of fiber was still attached to where it once stood. It was a huge ass tree alright.

  
  


      “Okay, we gotta deal with this and quick.” Charmless said, more to himself than anyone else. After a somewhat lengthy thought process, the stallion had his idea. 

 

    “First things first. We gotta get rid of this tree!” Charmless concluded triumphantly, this time directly to the others.

  
  


     “Alright, how?” Scribbler interjected. 

  
  


  “In a matter of moments, the realization that he overlooked explaining his plan quickly eroded the pride that had been intended for the presentation. Regardless, Charmless still had a plan to explain. A step up from the Charmless they knew. 

 

     Charmless trotted towards the wrecked tree’s base. The others following behind questioningly. 

  
  
  


     “So, I’m gonna cut through this bundle completely so that it’s completely detached. Pen. Fang. Think you can cut the bigger branches off?” 

  
  


    “On it, Charm.” PenWrite answered as he and the dragon got to work. 

  
  


    “Kim, Lost, Hunter. You guys okay with moving the cutoffs away?” 

  
  
  


   The trio of Pegasi and unicorn answered Charmless’ request with a Unanimous: 

  
  


      “I Guess.” 

  
  


    With both bases covered, Charmless proceeded to unsheathe the quill from his ear, ignited it’s formidable blade, and began hacking at the tree. How a huge tree like this fell was beyond anything Charmless or anyone else could imagine. And what were the odds it would lands dead on the tracks? 

  
  


     THWACK! 

  
  


     Not that it mattered though. They were dealing with the problem. Looking up from his progress, Charmless couldn’t help but grin a small smile to see the display of teamwork in front of him. Each and every time Pen and Fang would chop off a branch, KP or Hunter would take hold of it and toss it to the sides. If it was a particularly heavy branch, they’d both lift it on each end. With some help from lost for the especially dense ones. 

  
  
  


       THWACK! 

  
  


  Charmless was regaining his pride in finding a way for everypony to contribute to this problem. 

  
  


       THWA- 

  
  


    “What about me?” 

  
  


   Charmless stopped his task at the sound of the question. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. 

  
  
  


       “Oh yeah. I didn’t forget about you, Scribbler. I just forgot to tell you. You know?” 

  
  
  


      Scribbler nodded her head In automatic agreement. Flashing that nothing wrong here smile for the second time. Doing his best to ignore it, Charmless raised his blade one final time and brought it down on the tree.finally severing it from its new stump.

  
  


      Charmless took his eyes off Scribbler to see the tree not only was fully separated, but had all its branches clipped. Leaving only one thing to do.

  
  


     “Can you lend some earth pony muscle for this part?” 

  
  
  


        Without a word of exchange another trio, consisting of two earth ponies and one unicorn, took their positions at the tree. The stallions at the back and the mare in front. Two pushing. One pulling. 

  
  


        “On three.” 

  
  


    “You sure this is going to work?” Scribbler questioned as she readied her ink tassels. 

  
  


        “One.” 

 

       “He’s not listening to you. Big surprise.”

  
  
  


         “Two.” 

  
  
  


         “Why would be? Why would anyone want to?” 

 

         “THREE!” 

  
  


         “Shit.” Scribbler muttered to herself upon her realization. As fast as they could, her tendrils shot out towards the fallen log. Sinking their tips wherever they could for the best leverage.  

  
  


       “Hey, watch it!” PenWrite shouted from behind the log as he grunted. 

  
  


      “Sorry! Sorry!” Scribbler replied back. Rearranging the ink swaths as best she could. All three ponies put their everything into the log. The two strong earth ponies and heavy set unicorn heaved as hard as they could on the log. The slow, distinct groaning of a tree beginning its roll being the only indicator that their plan was working. 

  
  


       “Any luck over there?” Charmless called out from the strenuous labor of his breathing.  

  
  


       “Just. about. There. Come on you two. Are you even trying?!” The log was now on the last rail of the track. One push and they can leave this stretch of land and go wherever the track ends. 

 

        “Far from the best of plans.” Scribbler admitted to herself. “But it’s at least some kind of plan. And for now, we gotta stick to it. Right now, that means getting this piece of shit log out of the way.”

 

       “You all seem to be stuck.” 

  
  


         At once, every single one of scribbler’s tassels released at the call of whoever just uttered that line. Without the support of the tassels, the log rolled almost exactly back to its starting point despite the two stallions best efforts. 

  
  
  


          “Didn’t mean to startle you.” The enigmatic voice ranged out. Turning around, Scribbler could easily make out the source of the voice: a lone unicorn stallion atop a hill not far from the tracks. All six ponies got back on their hooves as he descended down towards them. 

  
  


          “Couldn’t help but notice you lot are in a real, sticky situation.” He said proudly. Not even a chuckle from any of the six.

  
  


          “Well, if there’s anything Senia has taught us, it’s that we should always lend a helping limb to those in need. Even those with attitude problems. So how’s bout it: care for trade off?” 

  
  
  


           Being the closest to this mysterious stallion, Scribbler asked the question she knew was on each of their minds. 

  
  
  


         “What kind of ‘Trade’ do you have in mind?”

  
  
  
  


            The stranger shot a look at Scribbler And said with a sly smile on his face that he obviously used many times before: “We pick up the log we chopped down, in return for everything on those wagons.” 

  
  


            “Excuse me?” 

  
  


      “Hey, they’re trying to get in the train!!” Fang suddenly called out. Before Obab could turn her head back to see what Fang was talking about, she took a sudden jab to the temple. Sending her rolling down back to the rest of her group. 

  
  


      “Scribbler! Are you okay?” Kp called out as she flew towards her downed friend.  

  
  


         “I’m okay. I’m fine. Just need a little help…” Scribbler said to KP’s offering hoof.The earth pony mare, with the help of KP, got back on her hooves. More than ready to repay the bastard for the cheap shot. 

  
  


      “Pen! You take everyone and deal with those bandits on the back! I’ll take care of the sweet talker!” Charmless boldly ordered, unsheathing the magical blade of his quill. 

  
  


      “Something tells me you should rethink that plan of yours, Rambo.” Interjected Obabscribbler. 

  
  


       Before Charmless could respond to the mare’s suggestion , the sound of a clear whistle sliced through their conversation , before a miniature rumble emanated from the stallion on top of the hill. 

       No, not from him. Behind him. Everything rumbled. The hill. The pebbles. The wheels of the traincar. Not even the mighty sea of trees were safe. Being pushed aside to make way for what was coming next. 

  
  


       “Okay I see your point.” Charmless quietly told Scribbler as the sources of the rumbles finally came into full view and surrounded them. It was a small army of bandits. Each one more savage and Disheveled than the last. There had to be a Hundred of them at least not including the ones banging away at the back door of cloud rail. Most were ponies of all three variations though Scribbler could make out a few griffins and even a yak or two among them. None of which quelled the fear within herself and the others.

  
  


      “Take the train!” 

  
  
  


  Nopony was sure who exactly said that line, but it was all the bandits needed to start this fight for survival. 

  
  
  


      Charmless and Scribbler wasted no time sprinting away from the epicenter and towards their numbers, slashing and slapping at anything that didn’t look one of them. No matter how fast the pair went they could still hear the thundering stampede getting closer to them by the second. Waiting for a simple stumble or trip to be made by their prey. One stumble and it would all be over. PenWrite was standing by the open door to Cloudrail’s head car by the time Scribbler and Charmless got there. Ushering in all non bandit ponies into the train as fast as he could. 

  
  


    “Get In here quick!” PenWrite shouted as quickly as the hooves beating before him. He didn’t need to tell Scribbler twice as she essentially dove through the door frame and into the sanctity of the locomotive. Charmless,his poor physique having overcome the rush of adrenaline, nearly collapsed upon entering. The bandit horde wasn’t far behind. At the rate the six were going, by the time hunter could put the reverse on the train, it would be too late. They needed something, anything to buy more time. And that’s when PenWrite got an idea. He took hold of Fang in his hoof. 

  
  


        Charmless didn’t see exactly what PenWrite had planned, but he didn’t need too. As the stallion switched his breathing from mouth agape to heavy nose filtration, he picked up something carried by the air. A scent that made his lungs revile in coughing fits. A scent that was paired with a light gray smoke. Burning foliage. 

  
  


         “You didn’t.” Charmless said to his counterpart as he hoisted himself back to hooves. PenWrite didn’t say anything due to Scribbler approaching the duo first. 

  
  


She confronted the arsonistic arsehat.

 

       “Are you fucking insane?!!?!?!” She growled at him. The scent of the outside matching her intensity. 

 

       “I bought us some time!” Pen justified to Scribbler. At that moment, Cloudrail began to shift and move backwards to escape the situation that it was in. For PenWrite, that was all the Justification he needed.  

  
  


      “You see that?” It was Pen’s turn for confrontation now. “If it wasn’t for me, those bandits woulda piled on this thing and killed us all before we even got an inch out!” 

  
  
  
  
  


       “You could of burned down this entire forest you idiot!” 

  
  
  


      “I bought us some time to get away! It’s just a little firewall,calm down!” 

  
  
  


           Before Scribbler could find the words necessary to tell Pen just how much of a bad idea burning a patch of grass near a forest truly was, a scream from directly behind her took their attention. 

  
  


           Turning their heads, the tree pulling trio found their other halves in a state of pure shock. The two mares and one stallion were locked in place. Hunter in his chair. Lost and KP standing adjacent. Their eyes fixated on one target. the windshield of the train. 

  
  


          Carefully approaching the screen, Charmless, PenWrite, Scribbler and Fang all peered into the glass. Nothing. Nothing due to the wall of smoke barely dissipating from the backwards moving train. the fire from which it was birthed still glowed faintly behind it. 

  
  


            Scribbler, still uneasy from the reactions of the others, broke the gaze and faced the others. She was about to continue her rant on Pen, albeit with more anxiety where anger should have been, when she noticed something. From the corner of her eye. It was unmistakable: the fire was closing in on them. 

  
  


        The scent that had assaults their snouts earlier also changed. This time paired with a smell they knew. It was the same scent they smelled the first time they met their baby dragon in deltas keep. When he lit KP’s mane. The smell of burning hair. 

  
  


        Their confirmation came only a few seconds later, when a hoof covered in soot and singed hair emerged from the cloud and slammed into the left side windshield. The slam was loud enough to snap the other three out of their stupor likely caused by the burned form the hoof was attached too. One hoof soon became two. Two became eight. Eight hooves simultaneously bashing into the windshield while Faust knows how many more of the bandits were at the sides of train. Having sabotaged the wheels and leaving the Cloudrail a sitting duck as it took beating hooves on all sides. 

  
  


        Hunter, upon realizing that the train was no longer moving, ejected his screwdriver from its slot and fired a green pulse of electricity at the metal frame of the windshield.  The jolt being powerful enough to send the eight pairs of hooves flying from the front and to the cloud of smoke. They were back within seconds and continued their pounding on the glass. Now being rewarded with cracks beginning to form.

  
  


      “What does it take to put these guys down?!” Lost exclaimed at the burned and shocked bandits. The train car was heaving violently from side to side now. Each push and shove threatening to levy the train to its side. and levy them to a fiery fate that would have them beg for the coldness of the wendigos. 

  
  


        Scribbler could feel the anxiety grow within her with each thud of the bandits’ hooves and primal screaming of their mouths. She couldn’t tell  if the dropping of her stomach was due to the raw nerve or the rocking. She couldn’t breathe from either the smoke the cracks were letting in or the lead weight of fear crushing the breath out of her chest. All around her, she could see the others readying themselves for whatever was coming up next. Charmless trying to light his quill. Hunter testing out his screwdriver. Kp brandishing her hoof full of animation cards. Lost readying her mic stand. PenWrite fastening fang to his hoof. 

  
  
  


       “You-you really think that’s gonna work a second time?” Scribbler mocked in the throws of her quiet panic. 

  
  


    “Second times the charm.” PenWrite threw back.

  
  


      “You’re going to die here.” 

  
  
  


   Scribbler could feel the blood vessels in her head shrink from the lack of air. The throbbing, pulsating pain was not helped by the thrashing the train was enduring. 

  
  


          “Everyone In here is going to die. All because you didn’t want to leave that bed. It’s what they’re all probably thinking right now.” 

 

        “‘It’s her fault.’” 

  
  


         “‘Why didn’t she get up sooner? We could have gotten the tree out sooner. Been far away by now.’” 

  
  


           “‘but no. Instead we’re stuck with her.

      Because of her.’”

  
  
  
  


       “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Scribber whimpered from the floor, adding confusion to the terrified faces of the group. 

 

       “What’s she talking about?” KP asked the ponies to to the left and right of her. Getting equally puzzled faces as an answer. 

  
  


          With a final punch, one of the scorched hooves finally broke through the barrier. Wild and lashing out like a deadly serpent. All other hooves soon caught on and proceeded to focus their strikes on the weakened piece their sibling broke through. 

  
  
  


         All equines raised their arms for the entry. Well, almost all of them. For one reason or another, Charmless looked away from the imminent danger and to the mare still on the ground, her face a mask of pure anxiety and terror. It was clear to even a pony like charmless that she was in no condition to fight off these demons from Tartarus.  Against his better judgement, Charmless tried to coerce her. 

  
  
  
  


          “Come ob Scribbler! We need your help!” 

  
  
  


     “I can’t. I can’t move.” 

  
  
  


    “Yes you can! Just get up!” 

  
  
  


   Two hooves now sprouted through new holes in the glass. 

  
  


    “I saw you take on a whole group of those bounty hunters in the cave. All you gotta do is that and we can take care of it!” Charmless pleaded.  A plea that fell on deaf ears as she replayed her own cries. 

  
  


     Four hooves wormed their way through now. Any more and the windshield would shatter. 

  
  
  


     “Please, just get up!!!” Charmless screamed as loud as his voice could allow. Carrying a tone of terror spliced with a frustration only a preventable event could bring forth. 

  
  
  


       “Charmless! That’s enough!” Lost barked out. By then, every member of the train’s attention was drawn away from the windshield and towards the conflict behind them. Preventing them from seeing the final blow. 

  
  


       “Leave her alone!” KP joined in. Placing herself between the unicorn the earth pony. Her cards still out, but with a new target in mind. 

  
  


      “You better fold that hand, girl.” PenWrite included. Positioning  himself to protect his friend from KP. “Don’t try anything stupid!”

 

     “Will everypony here just calm down?” Hunter interjected from behind all of them. Despite his direction of attention he still kept his screwdriver on the windshield. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re still being boarded!!” Hunter snapped his head back to the windbreaker to reaffirm what he said, but instead was greeted by nothing. 

  
  
  


       All of them were greeted with nothing. The holes were still there, but the bandits who made them were nowhere to be found. The billowing smoke and fire disappeared without a trace as well. 

  
  


      Of the group, it was Charmless who took a step forward. Quill Sabre in horn, he stepped cautiously towards the windshield, checking for any sign of whatever it was that happened. He leaned in towards one of the holes. 

  
  
  
  


         Without any warning, a familiarly scarred form jumped from above and punched his way through the frail glass without any resistance. He grabbed charmless by his shoulders and threw the heavyset unicorn out  as if he was a stuffed animal. 

 

Charmless landed on the muddied earth hard. 

  
  


  “Mud?” Charmless briefly thought to himself. 

 

    “Wasn’t there just a fire here?” 

  
  


       “We are taking this train, even if I have to take all of you on myself!!!!” The final bandit cried out, leaping from the train and to the muddied ground.  

  
  


      Charmless readied his quill, changing the Sabre to a crossbow. Somehow. The other 4 readied themselves from behind. The bandit paid them no mind as he lunged forward to Crescent with bare hooves.

  
  


        Charmless raised his quill bow. In an instant the bandits was blasted away from Charmless and the train in a surge of water. 

  
  


    Something about that didn’t seem right. Charmless may have missed a few things, but he was fairly certain his crossbow couldn’t shoot water. Could this have something to do with the mud? 

 

        “Go on! Get, you ugly, no good, hate monger!!!” The mare holding the large hose soaking the would be bandit, said. Unable to fight back against this current, The soaked criminal fled back to the forest he marched from. A defeated wet mess of what he used to be. 

  
  


      Charmless lowered his crossbow while the others walked over through the new exit the bandit had made for them. They had only been in this section of the empire for not even an hour and they had nearly their entire fill of crazy. Scribbler could feel the voice within her take notice of this and reciprocated the thoughts she was certain the others had: 

  
  


       “Nice choice you made.” 

  
  
  


    Unable to look at them directly, Scribbler turned away to avoid their accusing stares, catching sight of their apparent savior. After a brief stare down between her and the refocused six, obabscribbler asked the million bit question she knew for a fact was on everypony’s mind. 

  
  
  


          “Who are you?” 


	3. Hollowed Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alternative Six lick their wounds on their first stop at Senia.

“Has anyone here ever dreamed of riding on a fire train before?”

PenWrite waited for a response that never came. Unless a pony counted the mild jerk the fire train had at that moment a response. Stallions sat on one side of the small car while the mares occupied the other. Face to face. Only separated by a few, whatever the unit of measurement was in, what did Charmless call this place , Senia? Yes, Senia, of empty, dead air. 

None of them were in quite the mood to talk. Least of all the dark mare sitting in between KP and Lost. Obabscribbler sat with her head down. limiting her field of view to a sight of scuffed floors and hind leg hooves of the stallions. 

 

“Tough crowd.” PenWrite said, defeated. The stallion chose to wallow in his defeat through staring into his window, hoping their scenery had changed from the lush, green nightmare they had endured into something more manageable. 

 

Nope. In fact, the only real difference was the all natural dark blue cover of night that wasn’t possible anywhere the six were from. it would seem they were still stuck in this nightmare for the long run. 

 

And what a nightmare that was. If it wasn’t for this Firefighter and her fire train’s hose…. Well, that was a thought best left unspecified to both the six and the firemare driving the fire engine and towing their damaged train. 

 

“Shouldn’t be too far now.” The mysterious mare called from the driver’s seat. 

 

“Once we get to Hope Hollow, I’ll have you set up with the repair crew. They’ll fix up that train in no time.” 

 

“Thanks for the lift.” Charmless peeked out of a window to say. 

 

“It’s part of the job.” She humbly responded. Fulfilling her duty by not taking her eyes off the tracks for a second. A simple wave of the hoof in place of a head turn. 

 

Charmless could feel a hoof placed on his head right after. Before he could do anything, the hoof grabbed tight and pulled his head back into the car with force. 

 

“What? What was that for?!” Charmless loudly whispered to Hunter as he released the hoof full of Charmless’s mane he was using as a handle. 

 

“Aren’t you forgetting a tiny little detail about all this?” Hunter hissed. 

 

“The ‘I’ll have you set up with a repair crew.’ Bit. As in, she’ll take us to an entire town under Delta’s rule. Probably crawling with those P.O.S swarmers. And our only ticket outta here is punched beyond fucked, this raising ANY kind of flags in that thick head???” Hunter turned away from Charmless to get validation for his observations. 

 

“He’s got a point, Charmless.” Lost conceded as she temporarily left Scribbler’s side to get a better look from her window. From what little she could make out, it looks as though “Hope’s Hollow” or whatever she called it, was fast approaching. 

 

“So how are we gonna get through this?” 

 

 

“Three hundred forty nine. Three fifty.” 

Charmless less than enthusiastically said aloud as the last of the amount hit the counter with an audible *ding*. The mare behind said counter didn’t say a word. But rather, took a hoof and slowly drag it across her lips in a familiar style. Their troubles, for the moment, have been resolved. 

 

Well, Almost all of them.

 

Charmless knew what it was. As soon as he caught of the solemnly sitting Scribbler near the maintenance station’s clock, surrounded by the other mares. By now, the dark navy blue sky was transitioning to a brighter shade. Giving the tiniest bit of lighting to see her. The sooner he dealt with this problem, the better off everypony will be.

 

Charmless kept this in mind, as he approached the two stallions and dragon adjacent to the mares. Then again, being hasty could have repercussions, right? 

 

“So what did it cost us?” Hunter asked, raising his head from studying the screwdriver. 

 

“Same price for the parasprite damages. Plus a hoof full for the ‘Confidential’ part.” 

 

Hunter let out a small sigh at the answer given to him. The previous repair wasn’t cheap by any stretch, but that PLUS a bribe? At this rate they were burning through money as if it was fuel for that damn train. 

 

“We can’t keep going like this, dude. For all we know, this might be the only money we’ll ever get! So that means we gotta play this thing carefully. No more risks to the train. Only get the bare essentials for food. And No. More. Unnecessary. Purchases.” Hunter phonetically worded each piece of that last suggestion as he looked at a certain baby dragon and his special, exotic, priceless, Donkey in a cup. 

 

“And on top of that, you gotta clear the air with Scribbler, man.” PenWrite said matter of factly. 

 

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time we decided to hold off of talking about things to each other?” 

 

“Everytime I defrost fruits and vegetables…” answered the stocky unicorn with a shudder. 

 

“Then head over there and talk it through.” 

 

Charmless mulled over what both his counterparts said for a while. Not nearly as long as it would have been before, but long enough to consolidate his answer in the form of two simple words:

 

“You’re right.” 

 

And with that, he proceeded to walk down towards the mares’ point of interest in actuality this time. 

 

“Just remember to breathe. Before you do anything else, just remember to breathe.” 

 

“That’s all you ever do.” 

 

“Focus on your breathing.” 

 

“If you just pulled your weight for once, you wouldn’t be having this problem.” 

 

“Keep breathing, there’s no way anypony else could have seen that coming.” 

 

“You’re a wanted pony. No shit that’ll draw attention. You nearly got them all-“ 

 

“But they’re okay. We all made it out safely. None of us got hurt that bad.” 

 

“You only got extremely lucky! What’ll you do when they come back?! When that crazed Wanker tracks you down again?! When will you stop being so useless?!” 

 

Tears from the internal had already bubbled to the external by the time Charmless trotted near her. Hidden via body language of a depressed mare, the mostly darkened landscape and distance between them. As he got closer, Charmless began to notice the telling signs that something was wrong. The slouched head and quiet sniffling were things not even the cover of disappearing night could hide. From Charmless or the other ponies. 

 

“What did you do now?” Charmless heard KP shout from his right. 

 

“I-I-I didn’t do anything!!! I was actually Came here to talk and..” Charmless struggled to find something to say as the barely audible sounds of scribblers crying rattled his insides. 

 

“I think you’ve done enough of that!” KP hissed out, garnering the attention of the other members. 

 

“Just leave us alone!!!” She cried out 

Without warning, KP gave Charmless a hard shove, cantering the stallion backwards until he fell to the earth with a resounding “THUD!!!!!!”. A “thud” far louder than what any of them were expecting. Too loud. No sooner had the stallion gotten back up did they hear the familiar chiming of a clock. 

 

At Six A.M. the ground began to rumble. The first chime sent cracks splintering across the land. Dividing the already fractured six. A second tolling bell, sent both halves flying in opposite directions and with them, the stallions and the mares. The third, fourth, and fifth rings sent a chain reaction to the space between them. With each and every ring, a plethora of buildings shot up from the ground right in front of the six’s eyes. One after the other in stunning organization and maze like confusion. The sixth and final harmony sung in the background as the Alt six fully took in just what separated them. An unseen problem hidden beneath the surface, and an explosive reveal that caught all of them off guard. All before 6:01 rolled around.


	4. A New Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The six make a change in their plans, but not before attending to right a certain wrong.

“Tourists these days.” Was all the local of Hope Hollow had to say the stallions that formed the small pile he was looking at. Without so much as another word, he was gone. Leaving the pile to meander over what just happened. Over how a small community was suddenly transformed into a bustling metropolis the likes of which even Manehatten would struggle to match. 

 

Charmless rose from the pile first, the other two followed shortly after the weight was lifted off them. 

 

“Hey I found them!” The trío heard from above. Looking up, the stallions could make out the teal tinted form of a Pegasus mare. Flying higher than any of them ever saw her go. KP. 

 

“They’re over here!” She cried out over her shoulder to the remainder of their group. Even going as far as to point her hooves in the most exaggerated motions as humanely, er, ponely possible if that was the right word. 

 

*THWACK!!!!* 

 

Maybe the word “Duck!” was a better fit for the large crate that crashed into KP while she was flying. And “Falling” was probably a better description for what the barely conscious Pegasus was doing. 

 

Almost on instinct, Hunter took to the skies at full speed right on KP’s trajectory. Catching the mare in the nick of time. 

 

“She’s heavier than I thought.” Hunter said to himself as he descended back down with the help of his new cargo. 

“Beg your pardon??? Maybe you’re just brittle?!” His cargo muttered loud enough for him to fully listen too. Hunter was ready with a comeback of his own when he felt his hind hooves touch the ground gently. Giving him a better idea for a retort. He dropped her to the ground. 

 

“Whoops.” 

 

“My hero.” A very sarcastic voice called out just in time for the others to arrive. 

 

“You two alright?” Obabscribbler asked the pair of fliers, anxiousness teetering in her tone. 

 

“Super duper, Scribby!” KP answered back while wobbling back to her hooves. The stunning effects of a crate to the back of the head was starting to wear off for her. 

 

“Think my heads starting to clear up. 

 

“Glad to see the two of you okay!” 

 

All six ponies and dragon turned around immediately after the line was spoken. 

 

Standing adjacent to all of them was a uniformed mare. Remembering what happened last time they met an officer, Scribbler took point as opposed to Charmless.

 

“Can, we help you officer?” Scribbler asked. Occasionally glancing back at a certain stallion of crimson color. 

 

“No. But you can help yourselves to this.”

 

The officer reached into her satchel with her mouth. A small ball of fear caught itself in Scribbler’s throat. It couldn’t be, could it? They’re already onto us? Oh, why did I ask KP to do that? So stupid! No shit calling out “hey I found them!” Was gonna draw attention. Each thought shot through the mare’s skull at lightning speed. So fast the officer may as well have been a statue. Anxiety when paired with overthinking can do so much in so little time. In the time it took for Scribbler to regain some sense of focus on the outside world, the mare retrieved the object from her satchel. 

 

“A piece of paper? No. Two. They’re probably our bounty posters. Or the warrant for our arrest. We can’t let it happen we gotta do something. Now.” Obabscribbler could feel her paranoia taking hold within the inkwell. Weighing down the implement against her neck alongside the ball of fear. Then she saw the paper. 

 

The officer trotted past the troubled pony and proceeded towards KP. She handed one piece to her and the other to Hunter. 

 

“A ticket?!” KP could hardly believe it. Even as she was staring at the very thing she was questioning. 

“For what?! Not being killed by some giant-ass crate?!” She barked as Hunter was given one of his own. 

 

“For flying in a no-flying designated zone.” The police mare pointed out a sign over their heads. Sure enough, the sign was that of an open wing covered by the red slash of prohibition. 

 

“Pay those by the end of the day or we’ll be doubling it. Have a nice day.” And with that, the officer trotted away to return to her regular patrols. 

 

“This can’t be real. 125 bits for a first time offense?!” Hunter objected very heavily. Flicking the ticket in anger. 

 

“Flick that again and you’re looking at another ticket,buddy!” 

 

“Trappin ass beat cop.” Hunter mumbled beneath his breathing.

 

“One thing at a time Hunter. First things first, we have to find that train station.” Charmless said at his first attempt at leadership that didn’t require an immediate life and death situation. 

 

“And where are we supposed to start looking?” Hunter said as he tucked away his ticket. “This whole stupid town is changing all the time and we can’t use flight to find our way. So,it would look like our hooves are tied.” 

 

“And over here on your left, you can see the ‘Hope Hollow Luxury Resort’ the absolute finest place to stay during your visit. I’m good with the manager so I can put a good wood for ya.” The cheerful voice followed by laughter of various tones immediately caught the attention of the serious six. 

 

Sure enough, standing a few meters away was a group of tourists. With a pink-purple mare shepparding them through the street. It didn’t take long for the tour guide to notice them back. 

 

“Oh! Some new tourists I presume?” The mare asked in a cheerful and bubbly tone that out shined the previous one. Thinking quick, Scribbler put her VA skills to work. 

 

“That right! We’re just a couple of friends who wanted to take in the sights of uh, Hope’s Hollow!” 

 

“You mean ‘Hope Hollow?’” The guidemare corrected. 

 

“Right, yes, of course, definitely, absolutely.” 

 

“Well the more the merrier! That’s what I always say! Stay close and I’ll be sure to answer whatever questions you got! Oh, my name’s Petunia Pedals, glad to make your acquaintance!” 

 

Petunia extended her hoof in courtesy. Scribbler took it and gave it a decent enough shake for good measure. 

 

“Say, there’s something a bit familiar about you. Feels like I’ve seen you someplace before.” Petunia cocked an eye along with a hoof to her chin deep in thought. 

 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Was all on scribbler’s thoughts. 

 

“That’s right! You’re that group Torque Wrench was talking about! The ones with that nasty run in with those awful bandits.” Petunia brought up her hoof yet again. This time instead of waiting for a hoofshake, she firmly placed it upon the uneasy scribbler’s shoulder. 

 

“It’s okay sweetheart. They can’t get to you while you're here. You’re safe now.” With that, the mare released her hold on Scribbler and marched back into the lead of her tour group with her newest members tagging at the end of the herd. 

 

“Hey wait.” Charmless suddenly said aloud. The only pony who heard and turned around was Obabscribbler. Which suited the stallion fine as this was something for her. 

 

Charmless took a deep breath in and began. 

 

“About what happened back on the train.” 

 

“It's fine. It’s behind us. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

 

“It wasn’t fine. It was wrong to make you try and-“ 

 

“I said ‘I’m fine.’ 

 

“Try and make you fight off those bandits.” 

 

Charmless finally spat out. After a brief pause, he continued. 

 

“You were in a lot of distress and I should have picked up on that.” 

 

Charmless took a seat on the soft grass that surrounded the town. His tail loosely wrapped around his back hooves. She knew what the pose was. It was body language that any fan of “Friendship is Magic” could pickup on Instantly; the “the lesson I learned today” pose. If this was an episode of FiM, she would probably be hearing the background instrumentals that would accompany such a moment. The cheesy, yet also endearing,score that can encapsulate a heartfelt lesson excellently. A lesson that just might be worth listening to. 

 

“I know everything that’s happened to us so far is beyond anything you were prepared for. That it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.” Using a front hoof, Charmless waved over the tall buildings and unfamiliar lands they had found themselves in. 

 

“I just want you to remember that, no matter what comes next, if it’s another magical monster, bounty hunter, or inner demons, we’ll be right by your side. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that wasn’t the case. Okay?” 

 

Scribbler could practically hear the swelling music that would be playing right now. She gave a tiny smile to the apologetic pony in front of her. She didn’t say a word but Charmless pieced together what she meant. In understanding fashion, Charmless brandished a smile of his own to the mare. Happy to have brightened up the day of somepony who truly needed it. 

 

“C’mon you two, I wanna see the giant statues!!” Fang cried out from quite a distance away. In the heart to heart talk, the tourist group, along with the other two thirds of their own group, managed to cover quite a lot of ground. But not too much. 

 

Charmless rose from his seated position and canted forward before stopping abruptly. 

 

“You coming?” 

 

“Go on. I’ll catch up.” Scribbler answered with her small grin still plastered onto her face. Without a word, the stallion was off to the races to catch up with his group. Scribbler trotted at a brisk pace after him. Once she was certain he was out of sight, Scribbler dropped her porcelain smile instantaneously. 

 

“You do know he only said that to get you to shut up, right?” 

 

“I know.” Was Scribbler’s only respond to the question pondered by her demon. Alone while she walked the streets of Senia as the swelling theme of approaching thunder excellently captured a lesson she already knew.

 

 

 

Hey


	5. The Rough Patch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alt six face trouble in the land of unity.

“It took a whole team of earth ponies and laborers three days to make this mighty lake. And if you’d like to know more about ‘Lake Unity’, feel free to take one of our pamphlets as we move on to the next site.” 

 

“You know, you’d think spending twenty minutes listening to somebody go on about pond scum would be boring. And you’d be right.” Said a weary Hunter who was very close to nodding off at any moment. The same couldn’t be said for Fang, who was well past that point and was now little more than an occasionally snoring decoration on the back of a very tired stallion. Penwrite let out a long yawn followed by a smacking of his lips. 

 

“Ain’t that the truth.” Penwrite answered back, eyes now only slits getting narrower by the second. 

 

A crack of thunder bellowed through the sky above them, more than enough to wide eye anything that was in the process of sleeping. Including two mares past that point. 

 

“Huh?! What the shit?!” Snorted TheLostNarrator as she shook off KP who had fallen asleep slanted against her. Still groggy, the mare was able to get back on her four hooves, and as far away from Lost as she could physically be. 

 

“Is she done with that dumb lake already?” KP said, front legs over her head in stretching. 

 

“Crowds moving. So I guess so.” Charmless answered. One by one each member of the group began slowly trotting towards the direction of the tour group. 

Save for one. 

 

The five only took two steps each before realizing this and even less to figure out who the mysterious absentee was. 

 

From behind all of them, and a considerable distance away, was Obabscribbler. She was simply standing there on the shores of lake unity. Eyes transfixed on everything and nothing at the same time. If there was a clue to what had caught her attention, it was not on the apathetic, blank mask that had become of her face. 

 

All the while, she had no sudden movements of any kind. Not even a gentle sway of her frame, the only signs of life she possessed were the fewer than normal blinking of her eyes and steady inflation of her chest. Aside from those, she might as well had been a Senian statue or the like. 

 

“Scrib?” Lost Questioned quietly. Maybe too quietly as she got no response from the mare. Scribbler simply continued to look out at the lake without an iota of emotion or awareness.

 

“SCRIBS!!!!!” Cried out Lost, who at this point was close to breaking out her microphone. That was not needed however, as that final calling out finally reached the mare of the lake. She turned her head from the lake in a clear attempt to find whoever it was calling to her. Only managing to get out an unenthusiastic, 

 

“Huh?”

 

Scribbler stopped her head turning as she caught sight of lost flagging her down with forehooves outstretched. Clearly wanting her to come over there with the rest of the group. 

 

Before she could even register what was going on, scribbler found that Lost was now within forehooves’ reach. She had trotted some 40 paces, or whatever the unit of measurement was, without even realizing it. 

 

“What is it? Is there something wrong?” Scribbler questioned naively. She had no clue what was going on. So what other choice did she have? 

 

Scribbler’s question was answered not a few seconds later as a second crackle of thunder rippling through the skies, this time accompanied with the unmistakable sound of a downpour. That was more than enough for scribbler as her and the other bronies and pegasisters galloped from the lake and back into Hope Hollow in search of both the group and dry shelter. 

 

They didn’t have to go far for dry shelter as the town took care of that for them. They saw it as soon as they entered the city’s lights. Skylights. In every space between the rooftops, covering the streets below were slanted skylights that diverted the rain and kept the town below dry and comfortable. 

 

“Huh. So that’s why they have ‘No Fly Zones.’” Hunter remarked once he was under the glass canopy. 

 

“Still bullshit though.” KP added on. 

 

Scribbler let out a tiny “mmhmm.” To be a part of the exchange, no matter how tiny it was. Being a part of the conversation would have been enough. Regardless if any pony but her knew it. 

 

Scribbler casually turned away from the crowd, having nothing else really important enough to contribute. Instead she took in the sight of her environment. Rain continued to pour down from the darkened sky above, only to be prevented by the glass shield above. Various lights decorated the streets below. From the casual streetlights that wouldn’t be out of place back home, to ornate lanterns that served as miniature suns that hung directly from the barrier. Each and every one shielded the town from darkness as effectively as the skylights protected against rain. Without them, Scribbler was certain there wouldn’t be nearly as many creatures bustling about. Much less creatures like that Hippogriff holding a photograph of her. 

 

Scribbler’s blood turned to ice water at that observation. So much so she had to do a second take to be absolutely sure. No doubt about it. That hippogriff had a photo of her and was showing it to a dragon, no doubt asking if he’d seen her. 

 

Like before, Scribbler’s hooves acted before she realized it. Using her earth pony strength, she found herself pushing Charmless Crescent along the dry dirt road. 

 

“Scribbler? What are you-“ Charmless started to protest, but was answered as Scribbler took a fore hoof off of the stallion’s side and pointed towards the armored hippogriff now asking an Abyssinian if she’d seen her. And he was closer than before. 

 

The situation was so dire, Charmless understood the threat almost immediately and he began to gallop in tandem with Scribbler’s ever continuing pushing. Without so much as a second thought between the two of them, the pair scrambled for the first open door to use as shelter. The others followed suit. 

 

It didn’t matter what kind of building they were in be it a schoolhouse, storefront, janitor’s room or even Delta’s throne room, no matter what it was, it had to serve the purpose of a safe room away from the bounty hunter and all immediate danger in hope hollow. No matter what. 

 

Once every member was inside, the six equines took cautionary looks to the glass display window and the world beyond it. 

 

They watched with bated breath as the tracker came into view.

 

KP hid behind a shelf to conceal herself. Charmless ducked down to the multi colored ground, pretending to look for something he dropped. Hunter slid as subtly as he could towards the edge of the display window. Penwrite placed a sheet of hanging purple fabric between himself, Fang and the window. Lost chose her hiding spot behind a large machine of some kind where Scribbler had also chose to hide. 

 

The machine continued to grind and pound as the mares stayed out of sight. They didn’t know what the machine was intended for, but it was doing fine as is for cover. 

 

“You sure he’s looking for us?” 

“The bastard was holding a photo of me and asking around. If that isn’t ‘looking for us’ than I don’t know what is!” Scribbler said over the churning of the mysterious machine. It’s white mixture continuously obstructing their view for moments at a time. But not for the moment they saw their pursuer exit out of sight. Having given up on his search for them. They actually outsmarted the hippogriff. Something finally went their way. 

 

“Excuse me, is there any way I can assist any of you?” 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. Hesitantly, the pair turned from the machine’s window and towards the voice. Said voice repeated as they turned, followed by the others from their respective hiding spots. 

 

Although the mare who was the source of the words was standing right in front of them, the six’s focus was on the scene behind her. 

 

This store was a workshop. A workshop for plushies, pony plushies. Suddenly the mysterious churning machine, the sheets of fabric, the display shelves all made sense. 

 

Before the mare asked for a third, and probably last before calling security, time, another mare’s voice called out in their place. 

 

“Oh they’re with us!” Petunia Petals said matter of factly. From the scene of the workshop, the pink tour guide made her way towards the three.

 

“You’ll have to excuse them, they’re just a bit shaken up.” She continued. The mare who ran the workshop seemed to accept this answer and slowly walked back to the front desk. 

 

“So glad to see you find your ways back!” Petunia exclaimed as cheerfully as ever. 

 

“Your little dragon was so insistent on getting his own ‘Any-Buddy’, it was so cute.” 

 

Pen write emerged from his hiding spot as did the others and converged with the mares.

 

“What are you talking about?” Pen quizzed the tour guide. 

 

“Fang’s been right beside me this whole ti-“ Penwrite turned his head to show where Fang the dragon was, only to be met with an empty space where a young dragon once stood. 

 

“Where’d he go?” Penwrite finished. His eyes darting back and forth in a panic. Penwrite was about to sprint to the front door, despite the protests of his group, when he felt a hoof on shoulder. It was Scribbler. Without so much as a word, she pointed her remaining hoof towards a rack of some kind. A rack that was being watched by a certain scaled customer. 

 

“Jesus man, don’t run off like that.” Penwrite scolded to Fang. Fang had no reaction to it though. Only fixating on whatever it was on the rack. The mystery of the object was solved when one of the six noticed words carved above the rack that clearly defined what it was; “AnyBuddy Frames.” 

 

It didn’t take long for Fang to turn towards pen and the five, ready to ask them an obvious question. But in even less time, his answer was given. 

 

“No.” 

 

“But why? These are so cool!” Fang protested, motioning his claws all around at the store. It was at this moment Scribbler stepped in. 

 

“Because a certain, greedy, grubby, irresponsible, irritating, thieving, little, scaled, pest spent most, if not all, of our grocery money on a Celestia damned cup toy from the back of some Pusscat’s stand in’s stand!!!!” She finished her sentence with a resounding rage she had no idea was in her. She knew she was pissed, but not that pissed. After a few awkward seconds of silence that even the rain and stares from passers by adhered to, Scribbler cleared her throat and continued. 

 

“So our funding is a bit on the light side. Story of my life really.” Scribbler said the last part of that sentence with a polarizing subtlety that honestly spoke louder than the shouting. 

 

The subtlety was loud enough to draw in another as Scribbler could hear the hoof steps of somepony approaching behind her. 

 

“Well don’t you worry about that ma’am! We here at the workshop believe every creature deserves a buddy, no matter what!”

 

It didn’t take an intellect akin to twilight to figure out whoever this pony was, probably a manager, he didn’t hear the first half of Scribbler’s explanation. Nonetheless he went on as he came into view. 

 

“It just so happens we caught word of what happened to you and your friends from our good friend Petunia. Don’t let those hate mongering bandits give you the wrong idea. Senia is a place where Unity and Tolerance reign. And to prove it, we here at the ‘AnyBuddy Workshop’ will give your friend an AnyBuddy of his choosing!” 

 

Forget Twilight, it didn’t take the knowledge of a week old foal to see this was nothing more than a PR stunt. A PR stunt she didn’t want any part of, indirectly or not. All she truly wanted was to go back to that Faust-forsaken train station, take care of the ticket ordeal, and crawl back to the only place in this insane land she could feel remotely safe. Her bunk and curtains. 

 

“Thank you for the offer.” Scribbler began. Scrounging together what scraps of sincerity she had left to the conversation. 

 

“But we don’t want to hold up the tour any longer.” The British pony thought up. It was a sound enough exemption and bound to be accurate. 

 

“Oh don’t you fret none! Some of the others wanted an AnyBuddy of their own so we’ll be here a while.” Petunia chimed in charismatically. 

 

“So much for that stupid excuse.” Scribbler internally chastised to herself. 

 

“Why else would they make a stop at a toy store if it wasn’t to but any?” 

 

“Well we won’t be taking up that offer right now.” She began while ushering fang, and by extension Penwrite, towards the front door. 

 

“But we‘ll just wait outside until you’re all done with-“ 

 

Scribbler and the six were just a hoof’s length away from the front door when they froze in place. None of them moved. None said a word. They did everything they could not to be noticed. 

 

The doorway was just able to provide scribbler enough cover as to not be seen through the large window. While also allowing her to see the fringes of tall, turquoise, figure holding something in his left front leg. 

 

As quick and quiet as possible, Scribbler returned  
To where she was with Petunia and the manager. 

 

“So about that Amy Buddy…” 

 

Seconds seemed like minutes as Fang, with the help of an employee, chose the details of his doll. Not helping was the ever lengthening pauses between each clash of thunder outside. For any pony not in the joyous process of making a buddy that could be anything, it was anything but. 

 

“How long does it take to finish one of these things???” Said a barely non monotone KP. Chin planted squarely on her hoof, mindlessly flipping through the pages of a “Me and my Buddies.” Book. 

 

“They got to be finishing up soon.” Charmless yawned out as he leaned against a small cabinet full of hats and other headwear. 

 

“Any sign of that hippogriff?” 

 

“No Charm. No sign of him.” Penwrite reported back from his spot behind the fabric. 

 

“Just like the last 4 times you asked.” Lost added on, her bored tone livened by a spark of irritation at Charmless’ constant questioning.

 

“I hope it’s soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take this stupid song.” Hunter’s voice was teetering on the edge of sanity as he said the sentence. 

 

Scribbler was silent throughout the exchange. She didn’t have a magazine, or was on lookout, nor was annoyed by the ever looping tune that echoed through the store. Instead, her eyes were locked onto Fang. Or more accurately, to what he was holding in his claws; the AnyBuddy doll. 

 

If it wasn’t for that stalking shape, she wouldn’t even have considered being in this shop a second longer. She continued watching as Fang chose the colours from the fabrics that would be his doll’s fur or clothing. A feeling of fear and familiarity courses through her chest in shortening breaths as each patch was sewn onto the frame and stuffing filled the space in between them. Giving the creation shape. 

 

Just the mere sight of the doll’s near completion put Obabscribbler on edge as the creature was given eyes of its own. Eyes that reminded her of- 

 

A monsterous clash of thunder rattled the shop with an intensity as strong as the bolt that preceded it. Robbing the eyesight of all inside. Along with any evidence pertaining to the train of thought Scribbler was having of the doll. 

 

The blackout lasted a grand total of eight seconds before the auxiliary power, or whatever they were calling it, came on. Scribbler let out a primal shriek of revulsion at what was in front of her. 

 

It was those same, mismatched, colored, eyes. Only now they were attached to a completed body and held up high in the air by two sharp, cadet blue, claws. The eyes laid behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses meticulously sewn onto its burgundy face. A face she knew recently. 

It was Charmless’. In fact, the doll’s entire being seemed to be a chimeric mismatch of all her cohorts. Starting from the bottom dangled two hind legs, one being a very bright blue hue not unlike that of a certain Pegasus she knew. The other was colored a pale, reddish, color that belong to her counterpart. The arms and horse torso were colored the darkened kind of green that Hunter was and the wings echoed KP’s palette a second time. 

 

As if the eyes weren’t disturbing enough, Scribbler only now realized the thing also had a mane. Or rather two. One on the back of its head, a deep, blood red stretch of artificial hair. The other, a neon blue with a pink streak just down to the side. 

 

“I’m gonna call him ‘Patchwork’!” Fang announced excitedly. 

 

Scribbler said nothing. Only pushed back the “Patchwork” doll lightly with a fore hoof and backed away towards the group. The farther away she was from that thing, the better. 

 

After what felt like solid hours, Petunia Pedals’ voice spoke out; drowning out the AnyBuddy song that had been blaring out the speakers and gramophones of the workshop. 

 

“Okay and with that ends our tour of  
Hope Hollow! Abyssinia station is right next door and the last trains are readying they’re departure. We hope you enjoyed the tour of our not so little town!” She finished with a small giggle. 

 

Did they hear her right? Were they hallucinating from sheer boredom, or did she just say the tour was over and they were right next to the station?! Was their ticket out of this hole a literal claw walk?!?! No. Not a cake walk, a sundae sprint. Each one of them bolted from the shop at breakneck speed. Not even checking for either hippogriffs or if their tiny cohort was following close behind. 

 

Sure enough, there she stood. A familiar clock to a familiar entrance. The name spelled out proudly in capital letters; ABYSSINIA MEMORIAL STATION. 

 

Scribbler was the first to cross the threshold Into the actual station. She could hardly wait to put all of this behind her. First to pay off those damn tickets and then get the hell out of Hope Hollow and all the problems she was riddled with. Bandits. Hunting Hippogriffs. And creepy Dolls that probably stab you in your sleep? 

Each and every thought played through Scribbler’s head as she approached the train yard. Cloudrail’s imposing figure now within view. 

“Fuck Hope Hollow. Fuck those bandits. And fuck those Dolls.” With one, final step, she opened a door to cloud rail 6. Nothing could have prepared her for what was Inside.


	6. The Grind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alternative Six must Pat their debts to the society out to get them.

For a moment, Obabscribbler did nothing. She didn’t move, speak, blink or even breathed. She just stood at the entrance, gazing into the world that was the interior of the train. It was only after a hoof came into view that she resumed all other functions. 

 

Lost was taken aback at she saw as well. Only here was accompanied by a resounding: 

“Holy Fucking Shit!!!” 

 

The moment after that response did the others followed suit with varying degrees of reactions that never quite topped Lost’s opening. 

 

The sleeper car was beyond wrecked. As was the dining car adjacent. The spare parts car? Trashed. The caboose? Devastated. The hall cart was made barren once again, lacking a souvenir a certain character gave them back at canterlot. The only place not completely ravaged was the main conductor’s car. If you could excuse the multiple holes in her soot tinted windshield. 

 

Out of all the cars, the sleeper cart was undoubtedly struck the hardest. Anything that hadn’t been fastened to a surface was torn violently. Curtain rods lay strewn across the ground devoid of their charges. Bed sheets were nowhere to be seen. As were any pillows and even the mattresses were gone. Leaving only ripped remnants in the box springs. 

Things didn't fare much better for the objects stuck to a surface. From one wall to the other, you could find all manner of scratches with varying degrees of severity. The carpet that covered the floor was caked with dirt smeared hoof prints, along with pieces of plant life and soot. Scribbler paid these contaminants no mind as she stepped through the chaos. Pass the scratches and over the plants. She finally stopped and stared intently at one bunk in particular. 

 

The five ponies struggled to figure out why their sixth would focus on this particular bunk when it was vandalized no differently than the rest. Gone were it’s curtains, it’s sheets, pillow and mattress. Just like the others. Then it hit KP like cargo. 

 

This bunk wasn’t different because of the damage she took, but because of the damage it shielded. Because it was the bunk Scribbler had dragged herself out of this morning and crawled back. The one place she truly had to herself. Gone. 

 

Charmless sagged heavily in his seat. Upset that this would be the closest thing to a bed he was gonna get tonight. Him and everyone else on board the fire train. The bedfellows took more than the beds. They stole the dishes, fire wood, coal, silverware, cookware, spare parts, remaining food, and their bits. Every single damn one of them. It was all gone. Charmless raised his eyes to the rest of the car in an attempt to shift focus away from the grim reality of their situation. The tiny firefighter’s wagon held no more intrigue then it did the first time around. With the exception of a single magazine that Hunter was snout deep into. “Magical Machinations Monthly” it was called. Not that it sparked much intrigue to anyone without technical know-how. Lost similarly sagged in her seat across from him as KP looked out the window in a blanketed stare. 

 

Fang was the only one in the group in somewhat high spirits. Talking Penwrite’s ear off about what him and Patchwork would do when they’re done with whatever the fire lady and metal guy wants them to do. As for Scribbler, Charmless gave only the slightest of sideways glances. But that was all he needed. All he could handle. Charmless wanted to reach out and comfort her in any way he could, but remembered what his previous interactions had done and didn’t want to make her worse off. So alone they all sat together. 

 

The silence was broken by a high squealing that bordered on painful to the passengers of the car. The squealing of a train wagon’s breaks. Wherever they were going, they were here. 

 

“Alright, everyone out!” A stern voice called from outside. With a swift opening of the door the ponies exited. 

 

“Scribs? You coming?” Lost Poked her head back in to ask her friend tactfully. 

 

Obabscribbler slowly raised herself up from her seat. A simple nod of her head served as her answer as she trotted past the unicorn. 

 

Although the rain had stopped since they left Hope Hollow, traces of it still lingered in the form of the damp air clinging onto their coats. The amplified chill of the night air. And the soft earth slowly finishing its transition to mud. None of which did anything to help Scribbler’s mental state. Especially not the last one. She could still feel the aches. 

 

Through the help of a few placed lanterns, Scribbler and Lost made their way towards the rest of the group. Once there, the officer started. 

 

“All of you are here today-“ 

 

“You mean night?” Penwrite corrected the officer, getting a chuckle out of Charmless. 

 

“As of Right Now, it is 12:04 AM! As in the morning, as in day. You got that, Chuckles?! Same goes to you Porker!”

 

If she still had Hands, Scribbler would be clenching them at the mention of that word. After a slight wait, the officer continued. 

 

“Because you owe a debt to the stead of Hope Hollow. To Senia and to our leaders. Since you can’t pay the fines with money, you’ll be working them off. What you see before you are the grounds for this year’s annual ‘Day of Change’ festival. Your jobs are to get this place festival worthy. Are there any questions before we get started?” 

 

Almost immediately, hunter shot up his hoof. 

 

“Okay great. We’ll be splitting you into groups of two. One to handle the litter and debris, and another for the vandalism. Me and Deputy Chief Nusu will be supervising the affair so get to it!” 

 

With that, the six got at it. The teams were made. On litter patrol were Charmless, Lost, and PenWrite. For graffiti cleaning were Hunter, Kim and the earth pony that answers to “Scribbler”. Each of the supervisors took their crew and got at it. 

 

“Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up.” Scribbler drilled from the inside of her head as she trotted over to the monument. Buckets of sud ridden water sloshing with every step she took. Once face to face with the obelisk’s base, two figures descended down. They were her Pegasi partners Hunter and KP. Both were hunched over as they landed, wings dropping across the floor. Eyes sporting the tell tale bags in spades. They were exhausted. 

 

Despite this, each of the Pegasi mechanically dunked their cleaning sponges into the buckets. Bleeding the various colors and dyes into the water. Once their cleaning tools had a semblance of cleanliness themselves, the two lifted their wings back up and left without so much as a word. 

 

“You’re welcome.” Scribbler softly muttered under her breath. 

 

Just as the little voice in her head was about to berate her choice of words, a voice outside her head beckoned to her. 

 

“Scabbard was it? Think you can pass a bucket over here?” 

 

Turning her head, Scribbler was more than a little surprised to see their supervisor Nusu, scrubbing voraciously at a patch of graffiti with the sponge she set to the side to collect more water. 

 

“What are you doing? I thought we were the ones who were supposed to do the cleaning?” Scribbler asked while bringing what Nusu asked for. 

 

“I know, but I really can’t stand the sight of the great change obelisk with all of this junk and gunk. And figured shaving a few minutes off your community service wouldn’t be something you’d complain about. Right?” 

 

Scribbler blinked twice at the apparent answer. 

 

“Well okay then.” She replied in tow. Nusu reached from around the corner and pulled out another sponge for Scribbler. 

 

With auxiliary sponge in hoof, and slightly colored from the water, The two ladies continued their work from the bottom while the Pegasi took the tip and the others worked the litter. 

 

Scribbler put her weight into the sponge as she scrubbed hard into lettering that spelled out “Keep Equestria Pure!” With an indignant huff, she cleansed the hateful rhetoric away until there was nothing but greyed suds slowing descending down the stone face. Taking with it the xenophobic remarks. She didn’t need to see those words in this world. 

 

While she was watching the suds slide down, she didn’t notice what was above her, as a small splash sounded from her left. As soon as she caught sight of the semi white foam that came from above, her mind began to form a joke. A joke revolving around the big obelisk and the white foam seemingly dripping from it. She didn’t know how it would end, or how’d it began but she did know one thing. She couldn’t wait to tell it to the others, including Nusu. 

 

“So what’s Delta’s obelisk doing this far out of anything?” Scribbler asked her Supervisor, hoping for an opportunity to insert her dirty joke. 

 

Nusu did not respond. Unless grunting while scrubbing counted as one. After a few more seconds of it, Nusu finally stopped and acknowledged the mare. 

 

“Sorry about that, I just wanted to make sure every bit of that awful statement was off the obelisk.” 

 

Scribbler trotted over to Nusu’s side of the monument. Sure enough, the face of it was sparkling clean. Fresh as the day it was carved. Maybe even more so. 

 

“Well you did that and then some. What did it say?” 

 

Nusu lowered the now worn sponge to the ground. Shaking off the excess soapy water from her hooves and fetlock before giving an answer. 

 

“It said ‘Element of Destruction.’ That’s what they used to call him.”

 

“who?” Scribbler asked. Knowing the answer but needing confirmation. 

 

“Delta.” Nusu replied with before continuing. 

 

“It’s a completely wrong way of looking at what he had to do to make Senia what it is today.” 

 

 

Upon seeing the sudden outburst of emotion Nusu had, Scribbler needed a second to plan out exactly what to say next. After a momentary gulp, she gave a response. 

 

“And what would that be?” Scribbler said cautiously while bracing herself for what could come next. 

 

“Nusu!!! Get over right now! You need to see this!”


	7. Unburial

It was staring right into his soul. Isibindi was certain that was what it was doing. Staring through his armor and Into his soul with its vacant sockets. It was a sight Isibindi was familiar with, what with the years he had served in the Deltic Empire’s Military. He stared down countless machinations that fought alongside him during battles. He lost count on just how many times one of these, “Swarmers” as Youngbloods called them, had saved his hide over the years. Didn’t make it any easier to look at them though. 

 

Being out in this field in the dead of night, supervising a group of deadbeat offendees as they cleared out the space for the Unity Celebration, Isi wasn’t expecting to see a swarmer this far out. 

 

“What is that thing???” KP cried out as she flew over head alongside Hunter with Nusu and Scribbler tailing behind. The two halves become one once again as Nusu approached the large, imposing obstacle. 

 

 

“ISI, what happened here? And just what is this thing?” Nusu asked the grizzled veteran. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a swarmer like this.” 

 

In truth none of the six had ever seen one like this before either. The ones they faced off against before were average sized, had the outline of your average Quadruped. With the exception of razor sharp forelegs, but for the most part had the shape accurately. This was not the case at all with what was lying in front of the outlaws turned clean up crew. This swarmer was gigantic. Even with the significant portion still in the ground. If it was upright it’d easily tower over the whole crew. Maybe even the obelisk. But judging by the 5 legs on each side of its body, this was a creation whose mass was on the horizontal as opposed to the vertical. Then it hit Scribbler on the head. This machination was keeping the motif of being modeled by nature. Not that of Equines, but of insect. Just like a centipede. 

 

A centipede that as opposed to being held together by magic, was now in one piece because of various moss and plant roots filling in the spaces in between. Magic having surely burnt out years ago. Despite her revelation, Scribbler kept quiet with the rest. While proud of her deduction, it still didn’t explain what it was doing here. All it would do is waste their time. A useless observation that would get them nowhere she was certain of that. Finally Isibindi answered Nusu’s question. 

 

“Chuckles and Fatso were clearing out some stones when they stumbled upon it.” ISI explained. Scribbler’s brow furrowing at his second use of that second name. 

 

“The storm must have washed away enough of the dirt to unearth it.” 

 

“But what is it and why is it here?” Charmless asked his superior. With a look of minor annoyance, Isibindi continued. 

 

“This was a centi-carrier. We used them in the early days of the empires war for cargo and troops. Troops rode in on them in spades, and stored supplies on the inside. Pretty efficient, but that’s just about the only pretty thing about them.” ISI gave off a small chuckle to pair with his improv. The only thing that paired it. 

 

“But they had a problem. They didn’t take muddy lands too kindly. Once that namby pamby purple pony princess figured that out, she had her Pegasi bring in a heavy rainfall each time we came riding. Probably what happened to this big one.” Isibindi concluded with a smack on the old Swarmer’s face. 

 

“So now that this little history lesson is over, everyone get back to work!” 

 

“What about the, centipede in the ro-field? Charmless corrected his ponder. 

 

For the first time since they got here, Isibindi gave the unicorn a straight answer. 

 

“Leave it. When we get back to Hope Hollow, I’ll call in a team to take care of it.” The action was certainly unexpected. Even more so than the sudden gust of wind that suddenly fell on the field. A leftover from the storm? Or the warning of another? Those questions would be the least of their problems as the miniature Tempest made its way through the clearing, snuffing out each of the lanterns as if they were princesses. They were in complete darkness. Unable to see each other or even their own hooves in front of their faces. 

 

Despite the absence of sight, Isibindi made sure sound wasn’t gone by shouting at the unicorns to illuminate the area. Almost instantaneously, a dull glow brightened the immediate area around Isi. 

 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you actually did something right for once fat-“ Isibindi paused as the stunned face of Charmless came in at full view. His eyes wide with terror. Horn not even showing remote signs of magic. Another aura of crimson light shimmered forward. Revealing it to be Lost in all her red magical fury against the blue tinted lights washing over the zebra pair and six. With the ever approaching sound of thunder, every creature turned around and saw what they knew in their hearts to be the source. 

 

It was the carrier, from deep within the blue light shined from its mouth and eyes. Despite this, the swarmer didn’t move. With caution in each step, both Isibindi and Charmless made their way towards the creature. To be absolutely certain it was shut down. Isibindi pulled a small stick from a slot in his shoulder pad. In an instant the stick expanded lengthwise. Becoming a staff that was strong and ready for combat. Charmless meanwhile, fought the urge to spark his quill. He may be dense, but he wasn’t stupid enough to blow cover. Again. 

 

The trek to the mouth of the beast was only a few moments, but to Charmless, Nusu, and the rest of the six, it may as well have been weeks. Isibindi readied the spear with one hoof as he motioned Charmless towards the mouth. Against his better judgement, Charmless peered into the brightly lit orifice. 

 

Time moved as if it were running through molasses as the group remained huddled within Lost’s light. As if the walk wasn’t slow enough, Charmless almost seemed frozen in place as he looked inside the moss caked machine. With each passing moment, the tension grew taut. Much like the barely visible Isibindi, the bronies placed a hoof over each of their items. Ready to defend their other if the need arises. 

 

From behind the structure Charmless hesitated to call a mouth, was a beam of the light. A beam that was moving. Just as charmless was earlier, this beam began to inch closer and closer to the red unicorn. He had no choice. He lit his horn and enveloped the quill. Just as he was about to unsheathe the blade, the source of the beam made itself known as it exited the mouth. Transitioning from a beam to an orb of pure light. The orb hovered ominously towards the unicorn and stung him. 

 

The sharp sting on Charmless’ forehoof was indeed painful, but it wasn’t enough to break cover. It felt almost like a bee sting. Then it hit him. Blue lights, aggressive, stings when aggitative. This blue orb was from a season seven episode. It was a flash bee. Definitely not worth breaking cover. 

 

“It’s just a flash bee.” Charmless called out loud to the group. 

 

“Flash bees?” PenWrite questioned. Not that charmless could blame him. With over 210 episodes, it’s hard to keep track of every little one off creature. Isibindi let out a laugh at the situation loud enough to shake the nearby trees. 

 

“All that build up for just a bee? You ponies get startled too easy.” It took a few seconds for the last of his laugh to die off. Once it did, the wind returned to take its place. An omen no longer, the tempest was in full form. Bringing with it a shower of rain that hurt like hail. 

“Everyone Head back to the car!” Isibindi attempted to cry out over the roaring of rain and wind. From ahead, Nusu and the rest of the group were shouting something as well and likewise were being cut off by the weather. Whatever it was, it had frightened the ponies terribly.

 

“Fatso, what has gotten in those friends of-“ 

 

Fatso’s full weight smashed into Isibindi side. Knocking the zebra into the air alongside Charmless. The pair flew for a short time before landing beside the group with a forceful crash. Isibindi scrambled on the ground in a disorientated daze while the sturdy Charmless got back on his hooves no worse for wear. 

 

ISI gathered his senses soon enough and turned to face whatever it was that caused it. Ahead of him, Nusu, and the six ponies was an inky blackness that concealed the culprit in its anonymity. Until a faint blue glow broke through it. The familiar blue glow paired with a lucky bolt of lightning gave the herd a full view of the horror. 

In the span of the bolt, the swarmer was in full form. What was left of its other half, now free from the mound it was buried under. The flash bee from before was far from the only one inside of it. The colony of flash bees had made their hive inside of the buried section, creating a makeshift tale that oozed a sickly, pus-like fluid that faintly glistened in the light of the bees and swarmer’s crystal. The Centi-Carrier raised its upper half in the air, kicking each and every one of its jagged, moss coated legs in a crude imitation of its adversaries. With one final battle cry in the form of a roar, the carrier barreled towards them.

 

 

Every creature fled in every direction. KP flew high to the left while Scribbler, Lost, and Nusu leapt below her. Likewise with Hunter on the right and the stallions following suit. The monster crashed into the hillside behind them with a wet “THUD!” Before shaking it off. The carrier jerked its head back and forth with a nauseating speed and even more sickening crunch. Back and forth. Back from the mares and towards the stallions. It was deciding who to strike first. After what seemed to be the final pivoting, it charged again, this time targeting only the mares. 

 

Almost instantaneously, Hunter reached for his sonic screwdriver. Before he was able to pull it out, he was stopped by a red hoof. Charmless didn’t say a word, but the shaking of his head and a strict look in his eyes told Hunter to not blow their cover. Finally he spoke: 

“I have a plan.” 

 

Instead of a head on charge, the carrier skittered side to side across the dampening soil. Covering much more ground than before. With less breath then before, the mares attempted to run in separate directions in an attempt to confuse the beast a second time. Scribbler, Lost, and Nusu began to separate as KP took to the skies. As fast as they were, they were not as quick as the beast. That became evident as multiple legs struck all grounded mares at the same time. Sending them into the air. Scribbler prepared herself as best she could as her airborne body descended towards the debris littered foreground. She braced for impact, unsure whether or not the plot armor could her. 

 

For the first time in what seemed like forever, luck was on Obabscribbler’s side for once. She felt it in her gut. She could feel her insides shifting up. Opening her eyes, Scribbler saw that the rest of her was rising as well. Against the pounding rain she saw KP’s silhouette right above her, forehooves interlocked with her own. Saving her from the rocky plummet. Before she could ask about Lost, her internal question was answered by the sight of a green Pegasus lifting a grey shape by her waist. It looked like she was saying something, but the rain drowned it out. 

 

“Holy fuck that was close.” Scribbler said as KP lowered her off to the ground. KP catching her breath. 

 

You’re….telling me.” She managed to wheeze out. Safe to say she understood hunter’s comment from before. Not that he or any pony else would ever know. 

 

Lost and Hunter weren’t far behind if the loud thud behind them was any indication. From where she was standing, Scribbler could see the carrier, thanks to a few of the lanterns being relighted. It was with this new visibility that Scribbler witnessed a huge boulder smashing into the carrier’s face, knocking it down to its side. What surprised her more was the fact that Charmless, Penwrite, and Fang were running around in circles around the swarmer as it got back up. The moment it did, another chunk of stone went sailing. The only thing that surprised her even more than that was the pitcher: Isibindi and his staff. 

Scribbler and the rest of the crew could only watch as the zebra forcefully plunged his staff into the soil and with a graceful flip, removed a section of the earth. With his staff attached to it. With a mighty heave, the boulder leapt from the staff and connected to the back of the carrier’s head. 

 

“For an old guy, he’s pretty strong.” Hunter remarked with steadied breathing. 

 

“Yeah no kidding. Nusu, you knew about this?” Turning around for an answer, Scribbler found no pony there. Nusu wasn’t in front or on the sides. She was not with them. 

 

“Where’s Nusu?” Scribbler asked the Pegasi, who each gave the other a face that clearly said: “I thought you had her.” 

 

Scribbler immediately began to scan the grounds from the hill they were on in an attempt to locate the missing zebra hybrid. Lost joined in, shedding some much needed light into their search. In the light of Lost’s aura, the mares and stallion caught a glimpse of something reflecting it. When Lost’s horn moved towards the glimmer, they saw what it was. An enormous puddle made from the downpour of this storm. The shimmering light showing tree branches of varying sizes floating or submerged completely. Save for what could only be assumed was the trunk of the tree near the center of the makeshift lake. And the face down, brown coated, form at its base.

 

All four ponies could see her clearly now. They saw how she was lying face down in the water, with a large branch pinning her. She didn’t have much time left. Once each of these pieces of information had processed themselves through her brain, Scribbler assembled a plan. Or at least something close to one.

 

“Hunter, can you go over and help the boys with distracting that thing?” Scribbler asked with as much assurance as she could muster. Luckily it was enough as Hunter gave her a solid nod and took off to help the other half of his team. 

 

“This won’t work. This is a suicide mission. You are going to get them killed.” Obabscribbler focused on the sounds of the continuous downpour to block out the thoughts. The three mares trotted down the hill as stealthily as they could to not draw attention. Wading through the icy cold water, and finally made it to the pinned Nusu. 

 

Charmless wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. Even with Hunter circling around and Isibindi chucking rocks, the carrier showed no signs of slowing or tiring out. Something that couldn’t be said about Himself or Penwrite. Combine the exhaustion with the caution to not slip in the ever growing mud, and it was a plan that Charmless could have done much better with. 

 

Lost and KP struggled to keep the tree limb in the air. Out of all the possible parts Nusu had to be pinned under, it had to be the biggest and heaviest. 

 

“How. Much longer?” KP posed. Her back being the only part of her body in more distress than her hooves. Propping up a limb that heavy with just your body was challenging enough. Even more so when the body in question was a Pegasus that knew less about being a pegasus the most foals. 

 

“Less bitching, more inching!” Grunted a clearly burdened Lost Narrator as the crimson aura she was known for flickered and dimmed against the tree limb. Struggling to maintain its grip, the combined strength of the mares nudged the limb ever so slightly above the down equine. Hopefully enough for what was about to come next. 

 

The carrier suddenly stopped its maddening rampage. Much to the shock of the stallions distracting it. While grateful for the chance to catch their fleeting breaths, all of them, even Charmless knew there was something else going on. As quickly as the movement stopped, the carrier animated back to life, through the tail. Swinging the still oozing mass the stallions could only watch as it twirled around and around. Faster and faster. By the time they figured out what it was planning it was too late. 

 

Chunks of the hives went flying everywhere, taking with it, the honey, the wax, the honeycombs, and the flash bees. The swarm descended on the stallions as they frantically tried to escape. Forgoing the original plan of distracting the massive swarmer. Who was now slithering back to its original targets. 

 

“C’mon. Please. Please be breathing!” Scribbler cried out to the turned over form that was Nusu. No response. Without even thinking, Scribbler began the only thing she knew how to do in this kind of situation: chest compressions. 

 

“Uh, scribes? I’m not trying to say this in a negative way but, there’s a twenty foot long pile of rocks coming at us right now! Or however long that shit is in meters!” Said KP. Her voice trembling and on the verge of panic. 

 

A loud gurgle made itself known at the end of KP’s request. Looking down, the trio of mares caught sight of the momentary globule of water as it exited Nusu’s mouth followed by bouts of coughing and wheezing. Nusu opened her eyes momentarily before closing them again. It was only the audible and raspy breathing that signaled she was alive. Until it was drowned out by the guttural screech of the Carrier that had finally reached them. 

 

Scribbler boldly stepped over Nusu’s form. Shielding the mare from whatever this monster was about to do. The unicorn and Pegasus mares flocked to each of her sides with equal determination. They were about to find out if their plot armor could protect against the forgotten carrier. The creature lurched back, then brought its head down towards them. 

 

A golden orb suddenly barreled through the air and crashed into the swarmer’s side and sent a chunk of said side crumbling down. The mares looked towards the source , along with the forgotten carrier, and found Charmless. His quill bathed with the same golden fury and in its crossbow mode. 

 

He said only one sentence. 

 

“Fuck it.” 

 

That was all the rest of the group needed as they each drew out their weapons. When the carrier tried to swing another piece of the hive, Penwrite and Fang burned it to cinders. When it tried to skitter away, KP threw out her slides and detonated them. Taking with them a good portion of its legs. Hunter came next with a stun gun shock with his screwdriver right on its underbelly. A shock that turned to shrieks when lost shouted through her mic, causing cracks to run all along its body. With the one in its chest being the largest as Charmless wedged his Sabre in between, splitting it open and revealing the crystal powering the monstrosity. Without a second thought, Obabscribbler emptied the contents of her inkwell, formed her tendrils of ink, and tore the crystal from the carrier. One swift kick shattered it to pieces, followed closely by the rest of the swarmer until there was nothing more then stones coated with dust and moss. 

 

All the while, Isibindi watched awestruck. After a short while to make sure it was dead, Isibindi had a new order. 

 

“Get her back in the cart. We’re leaving now.”


	8. What comes next.

“Hey, come on. You gotta get up.” A deep, familiar voice soothingly said. Despite the serenity of the voice, Obabscribbler shot her eyes open as a response. The room she was in. It was her hotel room. The room the convention had given to her for being a community guest. She brought a hoof to her face. Only Instead of a singular stump, a soft palm equipped with 5 digits met her cheek. Scribbler threw the blanket she was covered in aside, revealing more human features such as feet, knees that bent forward, and lady bits. With skin that turned a warm shade of beige with the lighting of the room. 

 

“You alright dear?” The voice asked with the same calmness spliced with a touch of concern now. Turning around, Scribbler saw his face. 

 

It was her boyfriend, Neighrator. Still as handsome as the last time she saw him. Scribbler started at his Complexion for a moment. Almost as if to verify it was him. Same shaved hairstyle, same tanned skin, and glasses that were in front of the most beautiful eyes she had ever known. It was him. 

 

When Neighrator asked his question a second time, instead of answering, Obabscribbler embraces him in a tight hug. Knocking the breath out of his lungs. 

 

“Bad…,D-Dream?” Neighrator attempted to Croak out to enough success for Scribbler to release him. 

 

“Yeah...it was a bloody insane romp. I mean, I thought our Aprilverse stories were crazy, but this… Lost was in it, and so was KP, and these three Stallions… we were riding on a fucking train that fucking flies and had to save Equestria from some nob head. Isn’t that crazy?” 

 

Neighrator didn’t even need a second to respond. 

 

“Hella crazy. You can tell us more about it at breakfast, come on! Xena said he’d save us a seat downstairs!” 

 

Scribbler nodded in agreement and began getting ready. A shower and change of clothes later, Scribbler was in the middle of applying makeup to her face when the dream from before crept back into her mind. It felt so real. But there was no way it could be, right? It was just a byproduct of convention stress and traveling. It had to be. Luckily, Scribbler had just finished applying her mascara before her hand started to tremble. 

 

Then she heard a knocking on the bathroom door. 

 

“You almost out?” Neighrator asked from the other side. His patience beginning to falter. Scribbler immediately put away her brushes to their original places on the bathroom sink and turned towards the door swinging it open. 

Before she could playfully chastise her boyfriend, Scribbler saw what was on the other side. It wasn’t Neighrator. It was the now open window. Showing nothing of the city she knew they were in. It wasn’t Baltimore. It wasn’t even a city. It was orange and swirling in all directions. It was an assault on her eyes that was soon replaced by the auditory attack that came from the front door in the form of screaming followed by the sound of something being dragged. Dragged towards her door. In the fear stoked panic, she could hear Neighrator cry out her name. 

 

 

Obabscribbler shot her eyes open for a second time. To her horror, the orange pattern was still showing through the window. But not the same window as earlier. It was a train’s window. Looking down, the British brony was met with blackened appendages with stubby hooves where fingers and toes once were. In the peripheral of her vision she could see wisps of neon blue and pink as well. She was a pony and as impossible as it seemed, this wasn’t a dream. 

 

The pain in her back was proof enough as she rose from the booth cushion she slept on. She already had enough back problems to begin with, but this cushion probably added a few more on top of those. Now standing upright, Scribbler could see Lost’s horn and one of her hooves from the other side of the table along with the sprawled bodies in various parts of the dining room. Such as the one on the floor with opened eyes. 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Charmless asked in a mild whisper. 

 

“Not sure if ‘sleep’ is the right word, ‘pure exhaustion’ is more accurate.” Scribbler replied back. 

 

“You sure you don’t mind sleeping on the floor?

 

“Nah, not the first time I had to, but it doesn’t really get any easier.” 

 

“Yeah no kidding.” 

 

As if to ease the sudden weight that response from Scribbler seemed to brought upon them, Charmless opened with a question. 

 

“So, did you dream anything?” 

 

Scribbler perked her ears at the question. 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I mean, you were tossing and turning a lot on that cushion. Not to mention the weird mumbling.” 

 

Scribbler pondered whether to tell the unicorn about her dream. Or the possible memory? No. She didn’t have to tell him. With everything that’s happened, there was no need to add to their list of worries. Especially not something so insignificant like a bad dream. 

 

“Coffee.” The dark mare suddenly answered. After gauging the look of bizarrity on Charmless’ face, she did her best to elaborate. 

 

“Dreamt I was, I-in a boat floating on a sea of the stuff. Isn’t that crazy?” 

 

“Probably. Then again, I did dream I was in a giant pizza, so maybe I’m not the one to call it.” 

 

“Did someone say ‘Pizza’?” Penwrite shot up. His eyes lighting up at the prospect of breakfast pizza. once he saw the look of “No.” On Charmless’ face, the light died out instantly.

 

“I snapped out of a dream where I had an entire harem for that pizza man!! The next time you say it, there better be a god damn meat lover’s pizza in here!” Penwrite spitefully warned the large unicorn as he flopped back to his cushion with excess fury strong enough to wake the other inhabitants. Realizing there was no returning to his harem, Penwrite got back up and on his hooves like the rest of them. 

 

“Is it still going on?” KP muzzlingly asked as she rubbed a hoof into her right eye.

 

“Yeah. Sandstorm is still kicking.” Penwrite answered with a dryness not unlike the outside at the moment. Or the inside. KP realized this too as she discovered the hoof she raised was harboring a few of those sand crystals on its own. The only thing louder than her screams was the amused laughter of TheLostNarrator. 

 

Scribbler however, couldn’t find it in herself to even chuckle. Back pain. Hunger. The dream. What happened last night had drained whatever energy she had left. 

“What else could go wrong?” Scribbler asked without any hint of emotion as she trotted slowly away from the scene before hoof. 

 

Before she knew it, Obabscribbler had found herself in a whole other cart from the group. It was where they were supposed to sleep, the aptly named “Sleep Cart”. 

 

Still feeling the grit of the dirt in its carpet, Scribbler aimlessly walked down the rows of cots still devoid of their mattresses. If there was one thing Charmless I’d gotten right about her, it was that mattress. Custom made to suit her back problems from that car accident so many years ago. And now it’s gone. Leaving  
little more than a simple frame adorned with more springs then she thought a cot could hold. 

 

Scribbler tore herself away from the frame the moment she could feel her eyes watering. Once the sole tear that had escape her tear duct was nothing more than a damp spot on her hoof, Scribbler sought another way to distract herself. 

 

Through her cleared vision, Obabscribbler could make out an object sticking out of the wall adjacent to her bed. Gingerly she made her way towards it. Music soothes the savage beast, that’s probably a saying here too, right? How bad could the music be? Delta was a musician after all. 

 

With a touch of finesse to her hooves, Scribbler turned on the radio and fiddled a bit with the larger than average knobs until she found a station. 

 

“And that was “Factory of Nightmares” by The Bushwoolies. Gotta give credit for their skills on the Mbira. Now for the latest news for Senia, here’s Newsmare Nutmeg.” 

 

The calm, mild mannered male voice of the speaker was replaced by a mare’s energetic one that radiated both confidence and composition with every word. Now if only the words she was saying didn’t fill her stomach with fear and doubt. 

 

“Officials are on high alert in Hope Hollow after it was revealed the escaped felons, now known by locals as the “Senian Six”, have been sighted at the settlement. Officers attempted an arrest, but the criminals managed to make cowardice escape at the last minute. We now go to the eyewitness testimonies.” 

 

Scribbler closed her eyes as the fresh memories of yesterday replayed in her mind as the first witness began his own recollection. 

 

“Everything just seemed so normal. Just another day in Hope Hollow.” It truly seemed like it. As the six ponies, one dragon, and two Zebras docked back to the station, Hope Hollow looked the same as they left it. With it being the waning hours of the day, most of the creatures had vacated the streets with only the shopkeepers and last minute customers keeping them company. The rain had finally subsided, removing the need for a giant glass ceiling over the town. The town was quiet and serene. The perfect setting after the terrifying experience the six had endured back at the monument. 

 

“Okay the doctor says Nusu will be just fine. She just needs to rest.” Charmless announced as he claimed down the stairs to join in with the rest of his group outside the train. Each member gave a degree of relief at the news, except scribbler who still had a bfragment of worry in her eyes. This was apparent as she quickly closed the distance between her and Charmless. 

 

“Are you sure she’s okay? No sign of brain damage? Secondary Drowning? Some other third thing we don’t know about? I mean she was underwater for a very long time and..” 

 

“She’s fine.” Charmless answered all three questions. Trying his very best not to let too much annoyance seep through his teeth. He knew she could be anxious, but this was a bit much. 

 

“Anyways all we can do is wait until she wakes up, and while we wait…” Charmless paused for dramatic effect while reaching for something behind him. A small, rectangle-shaped, paper. A card

 

“Isibindi got us a table here. Said it was the best pizza place in town.” The second the word “pizza” made its way to the ambient air, all six members were reminded of their forced fast in the form of sharp pains in each of their abdomens like a red hot knife, followed by the savage roars that came from within. Even Charmless wasn’t spared the distress from his own choice of words. 

 

“Fine let’s go!” Lost finally managed to get out over the volume of the growls. 

 

“They should have known. We should have known. I should have known something was wrong.” 

 

“What’s with the Gargoyle rejects?” KP asked while they walked down the street. 

 

“Recent model. I think they’re there called, Tamblers. Read about them on the way back.” Hunter responded. 

 

“Those horns are like gramophones and play music and stuff.” 

Those horns did so much more than play music. 

 

“Then the tamblers started to go crazy. They played this loud, terrible siren through the whole town! Broke all the windows on Main Street.” 

 

“It’s a trap! Run!!!” Some pony yelled out to ringing ears and the symphony of glass shattering. 

 

“I was right on the path of one of them. The big, red unicorn. He had a maniacal look in his eyes. If my husband hadn’t pulled me out at the last second, he’d have flattened me instantly.” 

 

“I tried to take shelter in my cart, but the one wearing the cloak had his dragon slave destroy it with fire!” 

 

Scribbler remembered the cart that was in their way and the heat of the moment thinking Penwrite had. 

 

“I didn’t think I would survive when she charged at me! It was a mare with a coat blacker than the darkest night, with eyes as cold and dead as a corpse to boot. She manifested a dark tendril from the ground! Then picked me up and shook me as if I was a doll for her sick amusement!” 

“It’s true I saw the whole thing!” 

 

“All I did was Push. Him. Out. Of. My. Way.”

 

“Truly a horrifying experience. Our thoughts go to the victims of this terrible attack. Remember these criminals are horrid, dangerous, threats to our unity and shouldn’t be taken lightly. The minister reminds every creature to remain vigilant and report all suspicious activity to your nearest chieftain. Back to you Symphony Records.” 

 

Lies. It was nothing but lies. All of what she just heard was nothing more than the rankest, fallacious, manipulative, most slanderous piece of asinine shit the triangles affixed to the corners of her head were ever subjected to. How she managed to turn off the radio without smashing it to pieces was beyond her. With all the clusterfuck happening to them, this piece of shut was the last thing any of them needed. No food. No water. No money. No beds. And now no one will help us. How are they supposed to save their friends if they sunk this low? Scribbler clutched her chest in an attempt to slow her rapidly beating heart. Her vision began to distort. They needed something. Anything.. Something to fucking help them right now! 

 

In her panic attack, Obabscribbler at first failed to notice it. But somehow she did. Focusing herself as best she could. She could make out talking from the cart ahead. The dining cart. Were they talking about her? She had been gone for what must have been a while. Doing her best to wipe away the still forming tears and composing herself somewhat, she heard her name through the door. It was Charmless. 

 

“Hey, Scribbler. Are you okay in there?” Charmless asked with sincerity in his voice. Instead of simply answering, Obabscribbler opened the door and gave an answer through both her look and words. 

“No. But I’ll manage as best I can.” She responded though her appearance likely gave this same answer. Instantly, both Lost and KP took a side of Scribbler’s and guided her to one of the diner seats. Once she was seated, Obabscribbler decided to ask the group her own question. 

“So what were you all talking about?”


	9. The Flow.

“What were you all talking about?” Scribbler trembled slightly at the question. Afraid of the answer she predicted being true. While the sandstorm outside raged on with no sign of stopping, the atmosphere inside the train had changed. If she didn’t know any better, she would say it was a positive change. 

 

“While you were gone, we had a little scuffle.” 

 

Scribbler took a closer look at Charmless and saw a slight crack in his glasses as the words left his mouth. Silently turning her head, she noticed small, but visible details on each of them she knew weren’t there when she left the room. 

 

“So after the fight, we accidentally knocked loose a seat and found these!” Fang beamed, revealing a tooth that was clearly chipped. Once Scribbler had enough of dragon dental damage, She saw Fang was holding several containers in his stubby little arms. They were all packages covered with both a reflective layer of shrink wrap and plain black letters. 

RATION: INSTANT NOODLES. 

JUST ADD WATER

Scribbler was never a fan of pasta of the cheap, dried variety, but in that moment, it was just about the most beautiful, edible thing in her entire life. Until she read the last line again. They had been on this rustbucket of a train for nigh two weeks and not once did any of them think to refill the water tank. Or whatever it was called on a train. 

 

“How are we going to eat these without any water?” Scribbler added to her point by trotting over to the faucet in the kitchen and turned the knobs without so much as a drop coming out of the faucet. 

 

“That’s where this comes in handy!” Penwrite answered with a half smile that was likely caused by uneasiness of what he was talking about. That or the pound symbol on his cheek had something to do with it. Nevertheless, he motioned Scribbler to a window and asked her to peer out of it. At first all she saw was the same swirling, orange tinted, chaos that was always there. Then in the midst of the sandstorm, she could see something sticking up from the ground. Something thin, standing vertical, and had a curved handle sticking out of it. A water pump. 

 

Suddenly the half smile made complete sense. 

 

With a sandstorm as fierce as this, anything short of an earth pony would undoubtedly be blown away. At least that’s what Charmless said as he ushered both earth ponies out of the train and towards the general direction of the pump. 

 

“Out of all the possible places we’d end up, it had to be a desert in the middle of a sandstorm.” Penwrite attempted to say while opening his mouth as little as possible against the raging winds. His cloak served as a decent shield against it. He could remember when Charmless criticized that aspect of his OC’s design. Saying it was “Non-Functional.” Well, look how “Non-Functional” it is now. 

 

“You're telling me. With the kind of luck we’ve had, I was half expecting we’d land inside a volcano or a hurricane.” The voice from inside his cloak snarkily answered. 

“How much further?” 

 

“Almost there!” She could hear Penwrite call out. Peeking from the protection of the cloak, Obabscribbler could see they were indeed meaty there. The silhouette of the pump becoming clearer and clearer with each passing step. 

 

“Okay. Are you ready?” Penwrite asked as he slid out of his trademark cloak and positioned himself on the water pump’s handle. Now the sole occupant of the protective robe, Obabscribbler struggled to her back towards the largest of the sand carrying gales. This sounded so much easier on the train. Despite her lingering thoughts, Scribbler planted her hind hooves as best she could. Without a word, Scribbler launched her top half off the ground. With the bottom of Penwrite’s cape under her hooves, Scribbler opened the top portion as wide as she could. Shielding both herself, Pen, and the water from any and all sand blowing in the wind. The second their cover was up, Penwrite put his Earthpony muscles to work. He placed their bucket right below the spigot and wrapped his hooves on its handle. 

 

After a few minutes of nothing but the howling winds and squeaks of the pump for company, PenWrite decided to chip in a new sound. 

 

“So, how you been? You doing okay?” 

 

“Fine.” The word left scribblers’ mouth faster than the winds clocking around them. Penwrite didn’t even hear it so he asked again. Once again, it seemed like it was only the two other sounds. 

 

“Are you doing-“ 

 

“I said I’m fine!” Obabscribbler let out in a frustrated voice that made her whole body falter for just a second. One second was all the wind needed to break their shield. To throw sand onto the unprotected Penwrite’s eyes and to carry the empty bucket away from its charges. 

“Why’s it always the eyes?!”

 

Scribbler felt glued to the sandy earth as Penwrite writhed in agony and the bucket sailed further and further from sight. Her vision switched rapidly between the two. Each flash of Penwrite’s body and the shrinking from view bucket sent pangs of icy panic through her body. Freezing her body in place, while her mind raced at a hundred thoughts a second. Her mind burned while her legs were frozen, not knowing what to do. Only that she had to do something right this second. 

 

“Go help him!!!” Cried out a thought. 

 

“No! Save the bucket!” Screamed another one. 

 

“You can’t just leave him!” 

 

“You lose that bucket, then him, everyone else, and you all starve! maybe you deserve to, but not them!” 

 

“He’s hurt because of you!” 

 

Beads of sweat poured from Scribbler's face as the intrusive ideas pounded in her skull. Her hyperventilating breaths only fanning the raging fire inside her head. The apex came when both screaming thoughts bellowed the same sentence to her. 

 

“Stop standing around like a useless pile of shit and fucking do something!!” 

 

Penwrite’s cries of pain eventually subsided to short grunts of distress. His sockets burned ceaselessly from the stabbing crystals as his eyes watered in an attempt to douse the fiery sensation, but it wasn’t enough. If he wanted to use his eyes, he needed more. He needed a splash of water. 

 

“Scribbler!” PenWrite called out to the roar of the desert. He was answered with a mouthful of sand. Through his blurred sight, he could just barely make his surroundings. The cruel particles made his difficult task all but impossible, but he pressed on. Soon he could make out a vague shape in the distance. An amorphous blob laying on the coarse ground. He approached carefully. Coughing and tearing up all the way. 

 

PenWrite didn’t need his vision to know he found something, just his hooves landing on something that wasn’t immediately gritty. Adjusting the remains of his sight, he instantly recognized the red mass with white highlights. His cloak. In one swift motion, Pen hoisted the cape with his teeth and swung around back, knocking any and all sand off the interior and exterior. He didn’t need sight to know where the sleeves would be and how to tie it all together. This cloak was a part of him and he was thankful he had that back at least. 

 

PenWrite was all the more thankful when he was hit by a solid mass of hot sand. One that was too heavy to have been carried by the wind. Then another hit him on the same shoulder. Then again. He cautiously sauntered to the apparent source and was met by another mass one flailing frantically in the sand. 

 

“Find the bucket.” Scribbler plunged her hoof into the ground for what felt like the twentieth time. Her hoof was aching from the constant lobbing and burned from continuous exposure to sand. But that didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what happens to her. It’s all her fault. 

 

“If you can’t find that bucket, they’ll all starve and it’ll be, it’ll be all your fault. You gotta find it!” 

 

A light touch caressing her hind leg broke her train of thought and instinct took over with a strong kick to whoever it was behind her. Scribbler couldn’t feel anything connecting to her hooves, but she knew someone was behind her by the audible “woah!” That came from nearby. Obabscribbler swiveled around to face her adversary. When she saw his sand encrusted eyes and he saw her tear stained cheeks, the cloaked earth pony understood. He heard everything. He said nothing. Simply reached at the ground between and then pulled the bucket from where it had landed. 

 

“How are your eyes?” 

 

“Uh, could be better, thanks for helping with the pump.” 

 

“If I didn’t move, you wouldn’t have needed my help. I’m sorry Pen.”

 

PenWrite gave a small smile of optimism as he guided both Scribbler and the full bucket under his cloak back to the train. 

“You don’t have to apologize Scribbler. You know you can always talk to us about these things.” 

 

“Can I? It’s just everything’s been so ship to this point and-“ Obabscribbler paused at what came out of her mouth. 

 

“Are you kidding me? You know that rule about only swearing with Lost’s microphone was charming at first, but after all this crud, layered with bull manure, sprinkled on Tomfrickery, and cherry of indicative runtness on top, I can hardly take it. Fuck.” 

 

“Oh, Shittalk is back on. We must be getting close. So, you were saying?” 

 

Obabscribbler turned her gaze to the path ahead of them. The lights inside of the train was in clear view amid the particles blanketing everywhere else. Chills rattled the mares body as deja vu coursed through her mind. Resurfacing memories of that mountain. And the wendigos summoned forth by them. By tensions left unsaid. By the time they reached the front door, the shakes had subsided. Taking in a very deep breath Scribbler turned to Penwrite. 

 

“I think we should talk about this la-.” Scribbler stopped herself mid sentence and continued with visual determination. 

 

“We should talk about this with every pony else.” 

 

“I just didn’t want to burden us anymore than we already were. A-and I know that was stupid fucking thing to do after what happened with the wendigos, I just wanted to not cause us anymore problems than I did.” 

The five ponies and dragon could only stare at the mare that stood in front of them. For a moment it was complete silence as they processed the weight of what their friend was carrying. A silence that was only broken by the telltale whistling of a kettle informing them the water was ready. Without a word, charmless hoisted himself from his seat and moved towards the kettle. KP rose from her spot and moved as well. 

 

KP closed the distance between her and Scribbler and placed both hooves firmly on the earth pony’s shoulders. 

 

“Listen to me Scribs. Your feelings are never a problem to us. You never have to worry about that. It isn’t your fault.”

 

“But it’s my fault we’re here. Out of all the possible places I could have picked, I chose the worst possible one.” Finally The Lost Narrator spoke up. 

 

“There’s no way you could of known that ANY of this shit could happen. I sure as hell didn’t.” 

 

“Yeah if anything, it’s Hunter’s fault for driving us here.” 

“I think what the gecko is trying to say is that you didn’t choose for us to come here. We did. So if there’s any blame, it’s on all of us, not just you.” Hunter interjected right after a smack to a certain reptile’s skull.

 

Charmless finalized the last of the hot water to the final styrofoam cup. He didn’t have to elaborate for them. After waiting the customary 2 minutes, the red stallion placed each one meticulously on a tray and in his best waiter impression hoisted the thing on one hoof and carried it to the dining tables. 

 

“Dinner is served.” 

 

Using magic, wings, or whatever it was that allowed hooves to manipulate, the six grabbed their forks and ate an artificial, salty, yet delicious meal. Scribbler took a look at her makeshift support group as she slurped on a large helping of dehydrated, rehydrated pasta. 

 

“You know they’re only saying that, don’t you?” 

There was no answer to the small voice’s question. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for that sappy bullshit, are you?” Once again, no response. 

 

“You’re even stupider than you loo-“ the voice was broken before it could articulate the last letter. But the message was simple to understand. What they just went through, was terrible. What comes next will be far worse. So much that they will probably lose again and again and again. But probably isn’t a certainty. No matter how much the voice will say otherwise. Maybe they will manage to be okay. Maybe okay is good enough. Okay can be a starting point. A starting point to something else entirely. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to hope for maybes. 

 

“Who’s cooking noodles?” 

 

Scribbler nearly dropped her cup at the question.

**Author's Note:**

> I may consider releasing the first book of this if enough people are interested in some back story. Fair warning though, it was my early work. Thus, prone to some errors.


End file.
